


Warriors of the Valley

by TsyberRhaegal



Category: Gargoyles (Cartoon), The 100
Genre: Crossover-revealed later on, F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:13:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 193,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22116928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TsyberRhaegal/pseuds/TsyberRhaegal
Summary: Own nothing, neither the characters in this part nor the characters in the crossover part of this story:A restart fic. Clarke is murdered by Pike and comes back, at the beginning. In the dropship. And everyone that had died previously is there with her. And Clarke remembers, even though everything has restarted. And she has had enough. Angry as hell Clarke. Anya survived to betray Clarke, with Lexa. Both Anya and Lexa had betrayed her in her previous life. And so had Bellamy in her previous life. Bellamy's betrayal led to her death. Clarke has had enough of peoples' B.S. This is quite a different Clarke than you're probably used to. Dark Clarke. Doesn't give two craps Clarke. Eventual MonroexClarke and NiylahxClarke. Niylarke and "Claroe" or "Monarke." Whatever you want to call that ship. One-sided Clarktavia from Octavia's end.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Zoe Monroe, Demona/Elisa Maza, Demona/Elisa Maza/Janine "Fox" Xanatos, Demona/Janine "Fox" Xanatos, Elisa Maza/Janine "Fox" Xanatos, Female OC/Wells Jaha, Finn Collins/Raven Reyes, Niylah/Clarke Griffin, Niylah/Clarke Griffin/Zoe Monroe, One-sided Octavia Blake/Clarke Griffin, Pascal/Trina, Past Anya/Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 45
Kudos: 115





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Crossover with another series, because I just want Clarke and Wells to get adopted. You'll see which series at some point. A lot of this was inspired by Crimson MirrorGlass's "Azgeda Chronicles" on fanfiction.net.

Warriors of the valley: Chapter one

Some people can't be saved

Clarke was shaken awake by a voice and a hand shaking her shoulder. "Clarke! Clarke, wake up!" Clarke snapped away, brain fuzzy. She looked around where she was, panicked. Her mouth dropped when she saw what was in front of her. It was the dropship. The inside of the dropship. She snapped awake, looking to her right side, where the shaking was the cause of. It was Wells. Her Wells. Her best friend. Her partner in crime as the saying went, even though they had committed no crime except for the ones Jaha had accused them of. Her fellow outsider among the 100 delinquents. Her brother. Her family. Her only family. Among the 100.

She stared into those frightened brown eyes and she lunged to the right immediately, not caring about the restraints around her body and hugged a startled Wells. "Wells!" Clarke sighed heavily in relief. She didn't know how it was possible that Wells was here and alive. She didn't know and she didn't care. All that mattered was that Wells, her brother was here. He was safe and without any injury to his neck. Before Clarke could help it, her mind traveled to Charlotte. She almost growled. Damn that girl. She was here. Somewhere on the dropship, Charlotte was here. Wells's murderer was here. But so was hers, wasn't he? Somewhere in the dropship, Bellamy, the man that led her to her death at Pike's hands, was here.

Clarke's hold on Wells tightened. She was going to keep her brother safe. It didn't matter how. She would do it. She had killed children before. Maybe not in this life, but she had. She could kill one more for Wells. For Wells, she could kill hundreds. She snickered at that. She just might need to. She pulled away from Wells, wiping the smirk from her lips, not wanting to alarm her friend. Wells stared at her, looking like he could barely contain his relief. "Clarke," He started, "You're not-?"

"No," Clarke shook her head, grinning. "I know you didn't tell your dad. I know it was my mom." Wells's mouth dropped. "You…you know? How?" Clarke shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I know. It's okay, Wells. I'm sorry if I ever made you think I blamed you." Wells looked confused and Clarke couldn't blame him. The only time she had seen him before being locked up had been when she saw her father being floated. And she had been too busy crying into her mother's neck over her father's death.

And then the guards had taken her back to her cell.

So there had been little time when Clarke could have shown Wells that she blamed him for her father's death or her imprisonment before she had woken up on the dropship. She chuckled. "Never mind. I just promise you, Wells, I don't blame you. I know you'd never betray me." But the person who had betrayed her? Her own mother. Her own biological mother. That was one serious foot to the face. Clarke looked around the dropship where the many people she couldn't trust were strapped in. Just one of the many foots to the face.

It was then Clarke saw a boy going backwards on the lack of gravity, unstrapped from his seat. Clarke tried not to scowl, and tried to ignore her chest hurting. It was that idiot.

Finn Collins. Her first love. Or in one timeline, he had been.

Clarke almost laughed. This was so weird. She didn't know how any of this was possible. She had been killed by Charles Pike in the other timeline. But now she was here? Sure, she had heard some theories on the Ark between scientists about "multiverses," but this was insane. Had she really been dropped down into an alternate universe?

Clarke didn't have long to contemplate that when she saw Finn start to lower down on the gravity, swimming almost to get to her. She sighed. Not this time, Finn. It was better for both of them and better for Raven that it not happen this time. It didn't matter how it happened. What mattered was that if this was real and she had a chance to start over, she had to make sure that every decision counted. Her decisions had to be like the bullets in the chamber of a gun. Every bullet would have to count. Every decision had to count. Her eventual turning down of Finn. Her possible eventual murder of Charlotte and hiding the body. And maybe her murder of Murphy.

Then there was Bellamy. She wasn't sure what to do about him. He was the reason why she was dead. He had tricked her and blamed her for everything and brought her to Pike.

He was dangerous. She couldn't trust him. That was a given. She couldn't trust him any more than she could trust Lexa, Anya or the Mountain Men. Her eyes went wide, remembering the Mountain Men. The Mountain Men. They were still alive. Right, a new world, a new opportunity for the Mountain Men to kill them.

She huffed out and glared as Finn was low enough for her to eye him. She had many targets to hit with her "bullets." She had to make sure every decision, every single decision counted.

Finn smirked at her. "So you're the kid of the traitor, huh?" Clarke would have snorted. But she had no time or patience. "And you're the idiot that wasted a month of oxygen." Her smile became cruel. "And left Raven alone on the Ark. Wonder if any creep has made a move on her yet, because YOU weren't around to look after her." She watched as Finn's confident façade crumbled, horror now in his eyes at her words. Clarke knew that what she just did had been a gamble. She revealed that she knew about him and Raven. He would question how she knew. But for now it was worth it to see that confidence just disappear from his face. She had a feeling he might hesitate before pursuing her this time.

Clarke heard commotion and remembered that there had been a couple of teenagers that followed Finn's example and took their seatbelts off. Clarke groaned. She wanted to care and a part of her wished she would. But she couldn't. Hadn't she given everything to these people? Maybe not in this timeline, but she had. And if Finn's reaction to her when he first saw her was anything to go by, they would react and behave in the same way as they had in the other timeline. There was no point in trying to help them. They wouldn't help themselves. Even to save themselves, they wouldn't help themselves.

The torrent of failing gravity was now very present and Finn collapsed onto the floor. Clarke finally found her snort coming out. Had she really at one time been in love with this boy? The dropship then descended down, fast. She heard cries and yells and crashing behind her. She was sure by now that both the boys that had unbuckled themselves were dead now. Their own faults. Clarke braced herself against the seat, Wells grabbing her hand and squeezing it. She smiled at him, despite the nonstop shaking and descending of the ship, squeezing his hand back.

It didn't matter what these idiots threw at her. Octavia's snotty ignorance, Finn's naïve flirtations, Jasper and Monty's innocence, Murphy and Charlotte's bloodlust, Bellamy's selfishness. She and Wells would have to get through them if they had to and they COULD do it.

The ground met the dropship seemingly far too fast. Faster than Clarke remembered it meeting the dropship. She heard Wells's voice in the dark, "Clarke, you okay?" Clarke nodded and spoke softly. "I'm alright, Wells. Get ready." She heard a confused, "What?" from Wells but said nothing afterwards. She likely would be getting a lot of confusion from her brother in the next few days and months. But she had to get him and herself away from the 100. As she heard people unbuckling themselves from their seats, Clarke considered taking a few of them with her. Monty, Jasper, Harper, Fox, Finn even. Should she take them with her and Wells?

Despite what the others were like, Monty, Jasper, Harper, Fox and Finn were relatively harmless.

For now.

But Clarke hadn't forgotten what Finn was capable of after a battle. Suffering from PTSD and killing a bunch of villagers. If she could do anything about it, he wouldn't be killing anyone. It wasn't that Clarke didn't suspect on a certain level that the villagers deserved it. They were at war, so who knew what the villagers had done? Besides, since when did Trikru villagers need an excuse to do anything violent? They saw people they could take advantage of and they did it. As for Jasper, Monty, Harper and Fox? They were dangerous for another reason. For their inability to act. All four teenagers had done nothing in the mountain, save for Monty.

They had all bought into the Mountain Men's lies. Even Monty. But in the end, Monty had come through and wired the lever in the mountain.

And he hadn't even hesitated like Bellamy had. He had said it himself, "We pull this and the Mountain Men die."

Monty had acknowledged that he was a part of the massacre even before it happened. Clarke sighed, feeling her heart hurt. She hated that Monty had been a part of it. How she wished she had been the only one to pull that lever. She wished Monty had never had to wire that lever and that Bellamy had never pulled the lever with her for his sister. How she wished they had both remained innocent of that particular crime in her own timeline. But they hadn't. And only one of them had taken their nightmares and pain like an adult.

And it hadn't been the actual full-grown adult in this group.

Clarke had no use for Bellamy. He was dangerous and violent and only cared about himself and his sister. That was it. The man that helped her pull the lever in the mountain was gone after she had left. In his place had been a bitter, entitled mass murderer who thought that all Grounders were the same, save for the ones he knew personally and should get out of his way or die. She hadn't forgotten about that village that Bellamy tried to shoot up because they didn't move out of his and Pike's way to occupy it.

When Clarke thought about it now, had Bellamy ever been trustworthy? Hadn't he been willing to let all his people die in the mountain when she suggested pulling the lever? If she hadn't been in that room and if Monty hadn't been in the room, and if Bellamy had been the only one in that room and Octavia had been been threatened by the guards, would the lever ever have been pulled? Or would Bellamy have left his people to die? He only killed the Mountain Men with Monty and Clarke because he wanted to protect his sister. ONE person. Only one.

He couldn't be trusted. But Monty? Clarke's chest hurt like she had been hit in the chest. Monty had instantly wired the lever and had admitted that he was fully responsible as Clarke was for what happened next. If anyone should get away from these idiots and the chaos that would happen when their people and the Grounders ran into each other, it was Monty. She heard Wells unbuckling his seatbelts and she did the same, making up her mind about what to do. When Bellamy and the others were distracted, she, Wells, Monty, Jasper, Finn, Harper and Fox had to get away. She remembered that the first few minutes after they had come down, they had gone on a hunting trip.

It had ended with Jasper getting a spear in the chest. But that wouldn't happen this time. When she, Wells, Finn, Monty, Jasper, Harper and Fox got away, she would lead them away from that river. She wondered if she could get Harper and Fox to come with them. They hadn't come with them the first time. Maybe she could convince them. What about Octavia? Octavia was a danger. Was Octavia loyal? Yes. Had she been the only reason why Clarke had gotten to the control room in the mountain and the only reason why she had gotten inside Arkadia to speak to Bellamy before he turned on her? Yes. But she was immature. Shortsighted. She only saw things from her point of view. It was hard for her to imagine that she wasn't wrong ever.

It would be dangerous to bring her along. Then again, it was probably also dangerous to bring Jasper along when he had been so quick to bow his head to the Mountain Men's authority, eating up their lies like they were candy. But she knew Jasper deserved another chance. She knew a lot of these kids did. But many of them had fallen in line with Bellamy's selfishness and violent behavior. As long as they were fed and free, they were fine with letting thousands and thousands of people dying on the Ark. The lives of all the people on the Ark were inconsequential compared with the 100's desire to do "whatever the hell they wanted." All they cared about was themselves.

There was no one in this group who would help her outside of the six people that she was going to take with her. She briefly contemplated taking Monroe with her, but dismissed the thought. Monroe had been helpful against the Mountain Men. But she had also been an all too willing sheep, happy to follow Bellamy wherever that murderous man went.

Monroe wasn't an option.

Clarke got up with Wells and Clarke moved past the groaning Finn. Showing him affection would not help her. She went to the door of the dropship, gasps being sent her way. "Wait," She recognized Monty's voice, "What if the air's toxic?" Clarke shook her head and looked over her shoulder at Monty who she could barely make out in the dark, "Well, we can't stay here. Not unless we want to die of starvation or dehydration? Anyone else want to stay in this cage?" Clarke turned around and looked on the others.

She heard no response, just got glares from them. She assumed they were thinking about how entitled and spoiled she was as the Ark's "princess." God, how she ever wanted to help them, Clarke would never know. A familiar, disgusted voice reached Clarke's ears and she almost groaned. God damn it. Bellamy. "No one said you were in charge. We're not on the Ark anymore. You're not the queen here."

"So you want to stay here?" Clarke asked, biting down on her anger as she stared unflinchingly at the glaring brown eyes of the murderer of 300 innocent, SLEEPING Grounders. She was a mass murderer too. She had killed thousands of people in Mount Weather. There were so many children she had killed. But those were very different circumstances than what had been done to those 300 sleeping Grounders. Those Grounders had been asleep. Helpless. And they had been there to protect the people of Arkadia. Bellamy had killed his own allies and opened up a possible war upon his own people. He had stupidly put his own people in danger.

The only difference between him and Clarke and Lexa and Clarke was neither Bellamy nor Lexa had honor and Clarke just had no choice. It was either pull that lever or let all her people, including her own mother die. That was no choice. That was like having a gun to your head. But Lexa? Leaving an enemy to live another day and giving them bone marrow so they could get above ground with their missiles and bombs? And Bellamy? Killing three hundred people who were asleep and almost starting another war between their people? There would be no trust given to either of them. Ever again. Not in this timeline.

Clarke had to be more careful than that.

She shrugged and said before the self-righteous, selfish child in a man's body could answer, "Whatever. I don't care. I'm sure you'll do everything you want." She smirked and looked around at the other kids. "Since he's boring and wants to stay here, I guess I'll just leave." She turned around and turned the switch on the platform that was the door of the dropship and watched it open up. She heard another familiar voice coming from the crowd behind her. "Wait," Octavia's voice called from between some of the kids. "Bellamy?"

Clarke rolled her eyes. Great. The obnoxious Blake siblings were reunited. Get the parades of confetti and self-righteous idiocy ready.

There was a part of her that would always love them. Both of them. Bellamy and Octavia. But love wasn't enough as she learned in the previous timeline.

It sometimes could help, but love alone wasn't enough. And she had given more than just love. She had given patience, kindness, time. She had tried to be more authoritarian even. None of it worked. Some people just wouldn't be helped. Octavia didn't want to learn because she refused to acknowledge that she was wrong sometimes. And Bellamy didn't want to change because he refused to grow up and not admit when he was at fault. And worse, he refused to admit when something wasn't about him.

Sometimes love didn't help anyone. She knew that now. Some people you had to give up on.

Sometimes, you just had to let two people screw up on their own. Because you already learned that they wouldn't listen to you. Clarke unfortunately learned this the hard way from both of them.

But it looked like no one else remembered. That could be her advantage. Was it cruel to decide that both Bellamy and Octavia were beyond help when they hadn't even committed these actions yet? Yes. But the problem was that Clarke knew exactly what would happen. Since everything was happening the way it all started out last time, she didn't know what else she could do. It was likely their paths would end the exact same way it had last time.

Then there really was no help for either of them. The door of the dropship lowered to the ground, making the many leaves scatter and the soil compress under the weight of the metal. A series of awed cries, gasps and murmuring filled the dropship behind her. She smirked. It was awe -inspiring to them, sure. But it was going to get ugly real fast. Clarke heard more mumblings of people behind her realizing that Octavia was the girl "born under the floorboards." She snorted and walked forward, using the others' distraction with Octavia to her advantage. Her hand took Wells's and pulled him, urging him to follow her.

She heard his footsteps right behind her.

They would be the first people from the Ark to set foot on the ground. It didn't matter to her who were the first. The sooner she got herself and Wells away from the 100, the better. She and Wells got down to the end of the platform when they heard Bellamy yell at their backs, "Stop! Octavia, go down. Be the first person to step on Earth in 93 years."

Clarke snorted, ignoring Bellamy's orders. She let go of Wells's hand and leapt off the platform onto the ground, getting several gasps. She turned around, a mildly disgusted look on her face as she acknowledged Bellamy's stunned, then infuriated expression. "What? You think we're the first people on the ground in 93 years? How arrogant are you guys? You think that no one would be smart enough to survive the bombs? There's such a thing as bomb shelters. There used to be a lot of them around the world. Maybe some people survived." She nodded to Bellamy. "It's extremely arrogant to think that we're the first people to be on the ground in years. Get over it. And get over yourself."

She added, "I'm going to go look for food and water. We need it." She looked at Wells, ignoring the following murmuring. "You coming, brother?"

Wells stared, obviously mind blown by his sister's personality change. He eventually nodded. "Yeah." He said quietly. "Let's go."

"Who the hell do you think you are?!" Bellamy's voice was incensed and Clarke again had to fight not to roll her eyes. What an idiot. Had she really trusted him at one time? She was really starting to question her life choices back in the other timeline. That was probably a wise thing to do, since her life choices were likely what led to her death when she trusted Bellamy.

"I think," Clarke answered, staring up at the pretend guard with such aggravation, she was sure that the oldest of their number could feel it like a physical blow, "That I'm the one person worried about whether we'll have enough food or water to survive. We don't know anything about Earth. It's probably changed in the last 93 years. And there's probably a lot of toxin that's still in the air and water. And the longer we wait to get water and food? The more tired we'll be. Is that what you want to happen? Do you want to starve or die of dehydration? Because I don't."

Before she had to deal with their insistence that she was stuck up, she sighed, and spoke in a tone that she hoped didn't sound too much like she thought of them as whiny babies, which by now, she did. "Look, how about this? Wells and I and a few others can get food and water for the rest of you and I won't make a fuss about whatever else you guys do. I mean, you want to do what you want? Fine. But you need food and water, right? I mean, there's ninety-eight of you." She wisely said "you" instead of "us." In their eyes right now, there was no "us." They were selfish, self-absorbed children and there was no help for them.

She could see the contemplation run across Bellamy's face. And she saw he was understanding how this made sense. "Fine." He said, "But let's make something clear." He stomped down the ramp, trying to appear intimidating, but to Clarke, he just appeared like a stupid, inbred gorilla. The pauna had more grace than he did. She couldn't believe she had ever trusted someone as repulsive as him. "You're not in charge here. Not ever." Bellamy's face was hard and his voice harder. Clarke felt herself almost hyperventilate at the familiar words, remembering how he betrayed her last time.

"You're not in charge. And that's a good thing. When you're in charge, it ends in death."

And he had stopped being the man she would trust with her life. He became a hypocritical monster that had the blood of hundreds on his hands but refused to take responsibility. He told her that every time she had been in charge it ended in death. But what did he call what happened when he was in charge?

She might have been a hypocrite too, but at least she would admit it. And Bellamy? He was the king of hypocrites.

"Are we clear, princess?" His voice was harsh with a sneer. And somehow, after he was done saying that, Clarke had the unique sensation of almost laughing in his face and sure she was going to hyperventilate if she didn't hold her breath like she was doing. God, it was so comical, the comparison. In the other timeline, an actual other lifetime ago, she respected him as a human being, even before they had gotten to know each other. No, she hadn't liked him. She had thought he was crass and unreasonable. But she respected him as a human being and had been sure that he had his own reasons for doing what he had been doing.

But now? In this new timeline? She saw so much clearer. It was like looking at a giant, entitled child who just didn't know when or how to grow up. It was kind of embarrassing to watch. What that girl from the other timeline, Gina who had died before Clarke could meet her saw in the older Blake sibling, Clarke would never know. But she had had the misfortune of meeting him. And it had led to her death. Just as it had let to Clarke's death. And it would lead to Roma's death again.

Clarke immediately felt a connection with that poor young woman, Gina.

They both had been deceived by this man. They both had thought he was someone he wasn't.

She exhaled strongly, letting out all the stress and anxiety that Bellamy's callous words had caused her. She knew some exercises that kept the anxiety and the flashbacks at bay for a while. But as the anxiety settled, all she felt, as she thought about everything Bellamy had done, was sad. That was all she could feel right now. Because what else could you feel for such a sad creature? All he felt was hate and fear. Or apathy. None of that was good for anyone. Not even himself.

And now she was doing the same to save the rest of the people on the Ark. It was a ruthless decision, but since she knew what Bellamy was going to do, she again had no choice. Saving millions over 101? That sounded like a good price. No one should have to make that choice. But she knew what the best choice was. It didn't mean it was good. But it was the right one.

It was sad that Bellamy couldn't realize that one life didn't mean as much as a million lives. But she knew that he didn't. The proof was in what he had done in the other timeline. Raven's radio. The 300 people that had been sacrificed for oxygen. Those three hundred people wouldn't have died, had Bellamy not thrown the radio into the river to save his life. The 300 people that Bellamy killed with Pike and the other guards in the 300's sleep. That village that Bellamy had almost destroyed because the village wouldn't get out of the way. Then there was that other thing that happened that made Clarke's skin crawl. Bellamy didn't pull the lever with her in the mountain until and only until his little sister was in danger. That was it. He would have left everyone to die if Octavia had n't been in danger.

Those actions and lack of actions spoke loud. What more proof was needed? Eating babies? How many chances should someone get? Clarke was done giving him chances to fail her. Maybe she shouldn't have left camp during the first timeline, but Bellamy was entirely responsible for his own actions. She wasn't his mother.

And even a mother had to realize when the child-an adult child, had to grow up, even when the child didn't want to.

Clarke concealed her sadness when she spoke to Bellamy, trying to stay calm. "I got it. Now can I go get food and water? And since there are a lot of you, we should get a lot of food. Doesn't that mean that there should be a few of us going besides me and Wells?"

Bellamy scowled, but his face loosened up a little and he turned back to the dropship as some of the kids emerged. A few of them jumped off and raced to the forest, several following. "So," Bellamy yelled, "The princess thinks that there should be a group going into the forest. Who wants to join her and the prince?" Clarke looked around his frame at those that were paying attention, eyes lying on Finn, Jasper, Monty, Harper and Fox in the mass.

Finn, not at all to Clarke's surprise, was the first to walk over, looking fascinated and intrigued as he met her gaze. Clarke again felt like she was going to laugh. It perhaps wasn't healthy to have a superiority complex when it came to the younger hormonal teenagers. Younger mentally, anyway. Physically they were the same age as her or younger. But mentally? She was at least a couple of years ahead of them. No reason why they should know that, right?

But her words on the dropship had probably done the effective thing. Made Finn turned off of her, if only temporarily, but intrigued him enough where he felt he needed to know how she knew about Raven. Jasper, much to Clarke's relief, walked down too. Monty followed.

"Sure." Jasper said brightly, and Clarke tried not to smirk. As she had thought. Hormonal. Jasper said, smirking cockily, "I'll go with the princess. So I guess that makes me prince charming?" Wells acted as any protective brother would. He had been tense the whole time Bellamy had stomped over. But since Bellamy had stopped before doing anything, he hadn't attacked. But since Jasper was now only inches from Clarke, Wells lunged, but Clarke put a hand up in front of his chest, making him collide with it, stopping him. He looked at her, surprised. She turned to him and shook her head.

Now wasn't the time for being rash. They had to be calm and collected. If they did anything like attack people, there would be chaos and many questions. If Clarke could get herself, Wells, Finn, Jasper, Monty, Harper and Fox away with their wristbands, alerting the Ark that they were still alive, then there might be hope.

Besides, Monty and Wells were important in the technology department. And Clarke knew where there were radios. As long as the two of them came with her and they could contact the Ark, they might save all those people.

Wells assaulting Jasper might put a damper on any relationship they could hope to form with Monty. She turned to Jasper, smirking at him. "I think maybe you have the wrong princess. I'm less interested in small talk, more interested in getting fucking food and fucking water, if you don't mind."

She heard a series of gasp and noticed Wells straighten up, surprised. Jasper blanched, shocked. Obviously the "princess" of the Ark speaking the words she just said were expected the least of any possible thing that might come out of her mouth. Clarke turned an uncaring stare from Jasper and Monty, back to the surprised mass at the ship. There was still a good forty or thirty-six members of the delinquents watching and waiting. Clarke saw Harper and Fox. She said, looking right at them, "Hey, you, up there. The girl with the blonde hair and the bandana. And the girl with the black hair and the necklace? Do you want to come with us?" Harper and Fox both looked startled at being singled out.

Fox looked around at the other girls, trying to see if they were wearing necklaces too. She most likely was thinking that it wasn't her that was being singled out. Harper hesitated, but walked down eventually, coming to join Jasper and Monty. Clarke knew better than to ask for Miller. Miller first and foremost only cared about himself. His own father was a guard and Miller still went with everything Bellamy said. And he had been amongst the first to patronize her for her worries about the Mountain Men. Miller was not to be trusted. Besides, she was already taking chances by asking other people to come with her. She didn't want to risk causing chaos or bringing suspicions to herself by demanding anyone she wanted with her.

That was the difference between her and Bellamy. The real difference. Bellamy usually came through too late. But the thing he thought of first? Himself. His own agenda. At the most, he also would think of Octavia and maybe whoever he was having sex with at the time. That was it. Bellamy might as well have a sign on him that said, "I am a black hole of selfishness and for some reason, I act like I deserve respect."

A voice called out, startling Clarke, as she recognized it. "I'll come too!"

She looked at where the voice came from. Monroe? Clarke found the other girl coming down the ramp. The dark gold haired young woman got to the bottom of the ramp. She smiled. "Let's go. I want to look around and I'm hungry anyway." Clarke cocked her head, not expecting this. She tried to think. Had she really done anything that much differently from last time? Besides having more of an attitude, she couldn't think of anything she had done this time around that would make Monroe be interested in accompanying her.

But she kept her skyrocketing confusing under control. They had another person. Another person meant another wristband. She smiled and nodded. "Sure. Okay, great." She stopped herself just in time before she said Monroe's last name. If she hadn't, there would be questions as to how she knew the girl's last name. Clarke then saw the inevitable.

The ever blunt and forward Octavia moved down the ramp and looked at Clarke with piercing, challenging, blue eyes. "I'm coming too. But you don't get to tell me what to do, princess."

Clarke allowed a smirk. "That would mean that I'd have an interest in telling you what to do. And I don't. You would have to be worth my time for me to make an effort for that."

Octavia looked disgusted and incensed. Bellamy turned back to Clarke and gave her the same look. "You watch it, princess. You're not going to be treated special down here."

Clarke just gave a smile. "Understood."

Being expected to be treated with common human decency wasn't demanding special treatment. It was just expecting normal respect. Bellamy couldn't recognize that. Which really should have told her so much from the beginning, but just hadn't. How could she have missed all the signs?

Bellamy turned back to Octavia and snapped, "You're not going anywhere. You're staying right here."

Octavia scowled at him and moved past him. She snapped when she was just past Clarke, scowling at the blonde like she was the most putrid thing on the Earth, "I'm done taking orders, Bell. I took enough of them from you and mom on the Ark because of Jaha." Octavia threw blue daggers at Wells and Clarke felt the need to punch Octavia, but kept it under control. "And no one is telling me what to do ever again."

Clarke forced herself not to smirk. Right, never again. Unless those orders came from the Trikru, right? The only way Octavia would ever do what anyone told her again was if it came from Indra or some other Trikru. Octavia was such a hypocrite. She turned to Wells and nodded to the forest. Wells nodded. And so, with a somewhat bigger group than she had been expecting, Clarke and the other eight started to move to the forest. Clarke felt a smirk on her lips when she felt Bellamy's infuriated eyes on them.

It was when they were about to exit the outer circle of trees around the dropship that Clarke got a look at those a few feet away that she realized that they were being followed by a few people more. She paused just when she was about to cross over a log. There was a boy and a girl she recognized, but didn't remember the names of.

The brown-haired boy and girl came over more quickly when they realized they had been seen. "Hey," The boy said, waving his hand. "I'm Pascal." The girl added, smiling, "I'm Trina. Can we come with you?"

Clarke almost laughed. What was she doing so differently? Was being an asshole really that attractive to other people? "Um," She said, "Well, I'm not in charge, remember? You guys do what you want. So go ahead."

Pascal and Trina shared a grin and they walked over. Pascal added when he was next to Clarke and Wells, "It's just, you look like you know what you're doing." Clarke sucked in a breath, feeling a shred of the anxiety again. Pascal had no idea how close to the truth he was. She knew precisely what she was doing. But none of them could know that, except for Wells. Wells was the only one she was going to trust with this kind of information. And he probably would think she had lost her mind. But he deserved to know more than anyone.

There was a high-pitched voice that yelled, "Can I come?" Clarke's blood turned cold and she stopped in her steps. Because of how young that voice sounded, Clarke had an idea of who it belonged to.

She slowly turned with her number to see Charlotte running over. Clarke narrowed her eyes. Charlotte. The little murdering bitch. Clarke walked over, gently nudging Wells away, hoping to keep him far away from the deadly little girl. "No way. You're too young, okay?" Clarke made sure to keep her voice soft so that Charlotte didn't know just how hated she was.

The girl shook her head. "I want to help." Clarke kept a calm expression. But inside, she found only anger and twisted amusement. Help? Since when had Charlotte been helpful? Her being a young girl didn't take away the fact that she was a murderer or thought her vengeance put her above the law. It didn't change that Charlotte last time had killed Wells for two deaths he didn't commit.

"No." Clarke insisted. "I'm sorry, but you're too young. Maybe next time, alright?" Charlotte frowned, looking upset, staring up at Clarke with pleading brown eyes. Clarke would have laughed, had she and Charlotte been alone. Those eyes would only work, had Clarke known what Charlotte was. What Charlotte was capable of. Pleading eyes would not blind Clarke to Charlotte's ugly, little soul.

She would not ignore what Charlotte had taken from her in the other timeline.

If she had to make the choice, she would choose Wells over Charlotte every time. She was going to kill Charlotte if she had to. But she had to be smart about it. If she was going to kill Charlotte, she had to do it where no one saw her. She then remembered something important. Something that might get rid of Charlotte. It was something Lincoln had taught her before the battle with Anya's army. Around this area, there were some poisonous berries. The deadly kind of poisonous. Clarke suspected that some of the 100 in the previous timeline had been killed by those berries in the first few weeks they had been on Earth.

They were small and cone shaped and a bright blue-white color. Their juices would give you an agonizing death. It was why Lincoln had taught them not to eat those. But the thing was, in this timeline, no one but her knew that. And she actually WANTED people to eat them in this timeline.

And she knew where those berries were.

She leaned in closer to Charlotte and said in a quiet voice, "You really want to help?" Charlotte nodded, eager. Clarke smiled, knowing one day she would probably look back on this and be totally horrified. But not now. "Then help. But do it differently. Go look for food with some of the others. There might be some food around camp. Like nuts and berries. I suggest to the right, just a few feet behind the dropship. Opposite of us."

Charlotte spun around and looked in the direction of where the berries were. She turned back to Clarke and smiled. "Okay." She said. "I'll do good, promise."

Clarke nodded, wishing she could feel remorse for this. "I'm sure you will."

Charlotte turned around and ran over to the camp. Clarke stopped herself from smirking and turned around to join the others. "What was that about?" Jasper asked, looking at Clarke, worried. Clarke found no comfort in it. She knew Jasper cared usually about only two things besides Monty. His own safety and girls. That was usually it.

"It's fine." She answered, no warmth in her voice. "Just wanted to make sure the girl was safe. We don't know what's out there." Well, everyone else didn't. She did.

"So we're finally going now, princess?" Octavia sneered.

Clarke smirked as she walked, not even facing the brunette, "I wasn't holding you up. You were the one that chose to wait. And it's a pity you did. If you hadn't I wouldn't have to hear your banter."

Clarke didn't look at Octavia, but she heard the hiss behind her and could almost picture the inflated frame and reddening skin of the other girl. "You think you're better than me?!"

Clarke didn't answer as they moved away from the camp, down the log, shrub, weed, leaf, root and moss covered path, moving around rocks and smaller trees. When they were almost a couple of minutes away, Octavia finally acted as a part of Clarke so had hoped she would. Octavia grabbed Clarke's right shoulder and tried to force Clarke around to face her with a growl. Clarke knew Wells and Finn were both about to interfere, but didn't need them to.

The thing was experience.

True, both she and Octavia were on the same level when it came to being slim and lacking in muscles. But Clarke had all her memories of training and techniques that she had learned with Anya, Lexa and Lincoln. Some of which Octavia had shown her herself. Octavia? She had none of these memories.

And even though Clarke had known it was foolish to do this since Octavia was that idiot's sister, a part of her had been wanting to do it for a while. It was time for Octavia to loose the attitude. And Octavia wouldn't tell. She was too proud for that. Besides, with any luck, Clarke, Wells and some others would be gone by then.

It was when Octavia's hand was still on Clarke's shoulder and she had been turned around to fully face a furious Octavia that Clarke acted. She smacked her right arm upwards, slapping Octavia's arm off her shoulder. This action caused Octavia to gasp and her eyes to widen in surprise. Clarke used this surprise to her advantage. She stepped closer and turned her right hand, grabbing Octavia's hand that hand been on her shoulder, by the wrist and carried the arm up, and twisted it around.

Octavia gasped out, wincing, and Clarke felt an actual smirk come to her lips at the sound. She moved around till she was at Octavia's back, pinning Octavia's arm there. She grabbed Octavia's other arm with her free hand and did the same and ran forward so that she was pushing Octavia chest first into a tree. Clarke heard the gasps increase, but didn't pay attention. Not even when she heard Wells gasp her name. She felt the impact when she was up against the thick tree and heard the breath be taken out of Octavia.

Clarke used her chest and left arm to pin Octavia's arms and she grabbed Octavia's hair with her right hand, forcing Octavia's shocked face to look at her. Clarke knew that her face must have had a cold, unforgiving appearance, because as soon as Octavia saw her face, she cringed. Clarke said in an icy voice, "I don't know, or care what your problem is, girl. So you were thrown into the skybox for being born? Big deal. My father was killed for knowing something he shouldn't know and trying to warn people. But I still want to help the people on the Ark. Because I'm going to ask, which is more important. One life or millions? One life or millions, brat? If you can't answer me that, then I've got a revelation for you, maybe you should learn not to speak."

She added at Octavia's confused and stunned look. "The Ark is in danger. That's why we were sent down. To see if the Earth was livable. So to answer my own question, which is more valuable, one life or millions, the answer is obvious. Millions.

"And even with 101 people, the answer is still obvious." Clarke stared coldly at Octavia's shock. "The good of the millions come first. If you can't figure that out just because of your own issues? Then sorry, kid, you don't deserve to have an opinion." Clarke felt more pleasure at seeing Octavia look like Clarke had stabbed her than she should have. But it was there. That look of feeling like you were insignificant. Clarke had never relished in that before.

But now, after everything she knew about these people that would turn on each other first chance they got? No, now she would enjoy any pain created by their own stupidity. Because in the end, did they deserve any sympathy? Most of the things that happened to them down here were their own faults. The mess with Pike was just the final straw.

At last, Clarke moved back and loosened the steel grip she had on Octavia's hair and arms. She smirked at Octavia's continued horrified expression when the brunette turned around to face her. Clarke said, her voice still cold, "It might come as a big shock to you, but you're not the most important person on the planet. I'm sorry you lived the way you did and about your mom and that you were imprisoned just for being born. But your pain does not excuse condemning an entire people for Jaha's choices. Get over it. My advise."

She looked at the others and added, "So I'm going to get food and water for us as long as we can stay alive so that the rest of the Ark knows we're alive and know they can come down. Is that okay with everyone else or does someone else want to whine about how they've been unfairly treated by the Ark and so millions of people we never met should die for it?"

Getting only stunned stares and awed expressions, Clarke said, "Great. So let's move on, huh?" She moved past Octavia who she could feel staring at her and moved down the path. She felt Wells walk up next to her. She glanced at him and saw how he was staring at her. The way he looked at her hurt. He was looking at her like he didn't even recognize her.

She had accepted this time around that she would do what she had to do to keep herself, Wells and her people safe. But she knew that there would be consequences like there always would be. One of these consequences was her brother not knowing who she was anymore. She smiled at her brother, knowing it wouldn't do much good. "It's alright, Wells. I know this is all really weird. But I'll tell you everything later. You're just going to think I'm insane."

Wells frowned, not understanding this even a little. But to Clarke's relief, he nodded. Clarke felt holes being burned into her back and she knew Octavia was staring at her. So the next question was this: how was she going to convince Wells to leave with her? And that she wasn't crazy and that her story was true? Clarke didn't know. But she'd have to figure it out.

She went to the left, leading the others away from that river where Jasper had been hit with that spear. Every choice had to count. This was another. And she had to make another vital one when night came and they settled down. Getting Wells alone and talking with him about everything. She needed him to believe her. But out of everyone here, he deserved to know the most. And out of everyone here, he was the one that deserved to live longer. He had barely gotten to live on Earth before that shit, Charlotte murdered him. She would be damned if he didn't get a longer life this time around on her part.

And she was going to keep him away from toxic influences like Bellamy. That guy just didn't learn.

It was time to start anew.

She knew where there was water that didn't involve the river. There was a small creek a few yards away from here. And it wouldn't be long before they found a few deer and boars that ran around that area. They could find food then. As for Bellamy and the others? Considering Bellamy hadn't come after them the first time around to find his sister, going against his claims that he only cared about his sister and proving that the person he mainly cared about was himself, he wouldn't try to look for them this time either. It probably wouldn't be till the next day or even the day after when he sent people out looking for them.

That was good. That would give her and Wells and Monty and some others enough time to get away. She knew where that underground base was with all the machinery inside. There were radios in there. She wished Raven was here. But with Monty and Wells, they had a start.

Hours passed and Jasper and Monty got closer to Clarke. Jasper was mainly giving Clarke awed stares. Those kinds of stares you'd get from having someone annoying crushing on you. Clarke stopped herself from groaning the whole time. And to make things even worse, Finn was still looking at her with fascination. "So," He started getting closer to her, even though Wells tensed and looked ready to punch him. Clarke held a hand against his chest and stopped him. "How do you know about Raven?" Finn looked at Clarke with at troubled expression. Clarke rolled her eyes this time. She knew exactly what his insecurity was.

"Why?" She asked. "Are you worried that I'll tell everyone else that you have a girlfriend and so you won't be able to sleep with everyone? Raven deserves so much better, you know." She noticed Finn blanch, mouth dropping. Clarke sighed, "Relax, Space Walker. I know that you don't deserve that title, either. I'm not going to tell anyone anything about it. Go ahead and sabotage the best thing that's happened to you. You have a great relationship and a girlfriend that would do anything for you. And you throw it away." She stared at him without mercy. "Let's be honest why you're talking to me, Finn. Be very honest with yourself. Like I said, Raven deserves better."

Finn's mouth dropped and he looked like Clarke had just slapped him. Clarke didn't wait for him to respond and didn't offer any sympathy. She just kept walking away from him.

It was Monroe's turn to walk over to her, smirking back at Finn. "Shit, Griffin." The braided girl chuckled. "How do you know Space Walker? And damn, you really chewed him out. I didn't know he had a girlfriend."

Clarke nodded. "Of course you didn't. I bet Finn wants to keep it under wraps with every girl in camp that he has a girlfriend on the Ark. And she's a great one. And brilliant. I bet she could build a bomb from an age-old computer and a blender. And for how I know Finn?" Clarke tried to ignore the sadness that hit her at Raven not being here. That incredible, wonderful, ingenious woman was one of the reasons Clarke had found the strength she had possessed the last time. Knowing that she could count on Raven. And that Raven needed her help.

Raven still needed her help. She was on the Ark too. If anything happened to their wristbands, everyone the Ark, including Raven were in danger. "I know Finn from some of the doctor's visits he and Raven took to my mother's facility." This lie was the biggest and only lie she had spoken yet in this timeline. But she most likely was going to have to come up with a lot more. She saw how Wells was staring at her. He knew she was lying. But if she knew Wells, he wouldn't say anything about it until Clarke gave him an explanation.

Monroe smirked and laughed lightly. "Well, damn. Still, poor Space Walker." The grin on Monroe's face spoke how very little she felt for the guy. "I gotta say, Griffin, you yelling at Space Walker? That was kind of hot." Clarke almost started at those words, almost tripping on a few small twigs. So she was being hit on by Monroe now? She had not been expecting that one. So her new bitchy attitude somehow was attractive? That was news to her.

Maybe the stereotype was true. People really were attracted to bad people. And Clarke was bad in every sense of the word. A mass murderer. A manipulator and liar. And she would kill the Commander of the Grounders if she had to in order to keep her people safe. So she was as bad as she came. But unlike Lexa and Bellamy? She admitted it. She guessed she was more like Anya in that way. So she resembled one of the two women that had betrayed her. So what?

She chuckled, hiding her unease, "That might have been hot for you, M- but I meant my words. By the way," She said, knowing she should get this out of the way before she accidentally called them by their names and brought on a bunch of questions. "What are all of your names?" She looked around, waiting. She nodded to Pascal and Trina. "I mean, I know your names already. But what about everyone else?"

Monroe looked surprised that she would want to know and said, "Name's Zoe Monroe. But just call me Monroe. I prefer it."

Clarke nodded, more than okay with that, since familiarity. Jasper spoke hopefully, "My name's Jasper Jordan. This is my best friend and sidekick, Monty Green." Clarke tried not to snort when she turned to the two boys, watching as Monty glared at Jasper.

"Okay, really, Jasper?" Monty said. "Sidekick. You're my sidekick. Get the story straight." Jasper smirked. "In your dreams." Clarke turned to Octavia.

Octavia seemed surprised by Clarke's attention and scowled. "It's Octavia, Griffin. And don't think-"

"Yeah, yeah, thank you." Clarke said, waving a hand. "Give me the monologue later. You and your brother aren't very impressive." She turned her gaze on the now frightened Fox who looked nervous at having a predator pay attention to her. Clarke sighed, feeling bad for Fox's fear. "And you are?" She asked quickly.

Fox swallowed and answered, "Um, Fox, Ms. Griffin."

Clarke smiled. "You can call me 'Clarke,' if you want, Fox." Fox looked surprised by this. Clarke's smile was still warm and she looked to Harper. "And your name?"

Harper didn't look nearly as nervous as Fox did. But she was still uneasy. "Harper." Clarke nodded. "Thank you."

Clarke looked at Finn who stood up straighter. "And You're Finn Collins. I'm Clarke Griffin." She nodded to Wells. "This is my brother, Wells Jaha. Wells Jaha, who is in no way responsible for his father's decisions. So please get over your grudges since they're in no way related to either me or to Wells. Now that we have this all cleared up, I would like to get some food into my stomach, if that's okay with everyone." Without waiting for an answer, she turned around and walked still, hearing the crunching of twigs and plants behind her, letting her know that everyone was following.

She let some relief reach her. This was going to be a long few weeks. But she had to get her plans ready.

The base with the radios. Getting Monty and Wells there. Telling Wells everything. Keeping themselves alive and their wristbands active. Getting their hands on the guns so they could kill any Grounder or Mountain Man that came close. And getting rid of the Mountain Men and the Grounders.


	2. So we have a plan, what next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for mentions of underage sex, rape, stalking and murder

The walk throughout the forest had been an entertaining one for Clarke. Jasper almost fell three times and drifted between hitting on Clarke and hitting on Octavia. Both performances were deflected. Octavia was stewing in her anger and Clarke rolled her eyes and smirked. Finn kept trying to speak to Clarke, curious about when she had seen him or Raven at her mother's facility. Clarke simply shrugged and had told him that it wasn't his business and she didn't remember. She wasn't a robot with all the information logged away in her head and she wasn't obligated to tell him everything in her head.

When she told Finn that, he looked startled, like she had just told him that she thought he was stupid.

Which he was. They all, save for Wells, Monty and Harper were. It was fact. Not assumption. Just fact.

Along the trip, Fox had hit a log and almost flipped over before Monroe and Clarke caught her. Wells kept giving Clarke that look that just said, "you are going to tell me what's going on at some point, right?"

Clarke nodded to him. She would tell him. She knew when night came. It was only in a couple of hours. The sky was starting to dim already. The sky darkened only about four hours after they started searching the first time. Which told Clarke that it was bordering on 7 or 8 o'clock. Thinking of time made her remind herself of the watch strapped around her wrist. Her father's watch.

Clarke raised her right wrist so she could look at the dial. She was right. It was almost 5 thirty. So they didn't have long before it was totally dark. When that happened, they'd see the glowing and probably toxic moss and plants. Finn would find the footprints and try to impress her. Octavia at some point most likely was going to try to catch the boys' attentions by taking her clothes off. Any minute now.

Clarke was proven right a few minutes later, when they reached a small cliff of rocks locked into the earth, overlooking a dropdown to piles of leaves and bushes. The branches of the trees were cleared so that the last sliver of sunlight shined down on the rocks.

Octavia made her move then. She went right up to the sharpest, most stretched out rock and started peeling off her jacket. Clarke again felt like she was going to burst out laughing. Octavia sure thought highly of herself, didn't she? Sure, Finn, Jasper, Monty and the rest of them were all hormonal teenagers. But Octavia just came off like she thought she was the greatest person on the planet. Clarke understood the psychology behind it. She did. When you were kept under floorboards and told that you were wrong just for being born, you tended to compensate to prove that you were better than everyone. But that didn't make you appealing as a person. It made you boorish and stupid.

Clarke wasn't interested in Octavia any longer. She didn't know how she had ever believed Octavia capable of anything beyond violence and self-righteous stupidity. Octavia was a pawn. She claimed she was for rebellious behavior. But the moment she got approval from people she thought better than her own, she fell in line. Clarke labeled Octavia in an almost militaristic way. Octavia: brainwashed soldier.

Octavia shucked her jacket and flexed her arms, trying to impress the muscle in them. Clarke turned away from the younger girl and looked around the landscape, searching for the best path to take after she got Wells and Monty to the base with the radios. She knew that the best route would be away from both Polis and Mount Weather. The bases of the enemies. The safest direction to go to get away from both places, the opposite direction, would be to go down south. Way down south. Clarke had seen a few maps of Grounder lands before in Lexa's tents and at Polis. Unfortunately, the Grounders' lands were all kept close together. She guessed that made sense. Lexa's predecessors would probably want it that way. Couldn't keep the masses under control unless they were all in the same country and were accessible by horse, could you?

The Azgeda arguably weren't in the same country-not by previous standards of the world that existed before the bombs hit. But it was a different time now. In the eyes of the Grounders, what used to be "Canada" was now the same country as the rest of the Grounders' lands.

That meant that there was another tribe, right below Trikru lands. In the south. The Shallow Valley people. The "Luwoda." From what Clarke remembered when having the other cultures of the tribes described to her, the Luwoda were much more reasonable than the Trikru were, as Grounders went. They weren't as peaceful as the Floukru were. Or even as peaceful as the Ingranronakru were. But they didn't pressure people to join them like the Trikru did. They didn't use treachery or lies like the Trikru to Clarke's understanding. She wasn't going to be stupid enough to trust them. Trusting Grounders had proven in the last timeline not to be the smartest move.

But the Luwoda might take in a few lost drifters. If she, Wells, Monty and the others played their cards right, they might be able to convince them to speak on behalf of the rest of the Ark when the Ark came down. And this was where Monty and Wells's collaboration was important. They needed to contact the Ark and tell them the coordinates to come down to. Not the coordinates of Mount Weather. Not even close. Further south. There was no hope for them with the Trikru.

After they got help from the Luwoda, they could take one of the Luwoda's boats and go down to South America and find a new home for themselves and all the people of the Ark. They could have a new home outside of the Ark. She, Wells and all the Ark people could find a home in South America, away from all human beings.

The Luwoda might be their safest bet to get help and leave and find a new home where there were no tribes. But if not, well, Clarke wasn't beyond using ruthless means to get rid of them, then steal the boats. She knew that sometimes you had to just give up. Because that apparently was the ultimate thing she had to accept. There was no hope for anyone in this world. Not for her people. Not for the Grounders. So they lived in a world where force was the only way that people got their way? Fine then. She would make them know force.

How sad for them that Clarke knew exactly where there were bombs in Mount Weather and in different bases. So if the Luwoda ever betrayed them as the Trikru did? Clarke and her people would be ready. The Luwoda would burn. The Floukru were theoretically a safer bet, and they had many more boats than the Luwoda did, but for that she, Wells and the others would have to go through Polis and go by Mount Weather. That was too much of a risk.

Sure, going to either the Luwoda tribe or to the Yujleda tribe would take much longer. But it was a safer choice when it came to avoiding places like Grounder Central and Mountain Man territory. It would, however, take an incredibly long time to reach either the Yujleda land or Luwoda land. They needed how to figure out how to get there quickly after Monty and Wells were brought to the radios. She knew where the two bunkers were with all of the radios. She just had to make sure word of where they were didn't get back to Bellamy. And the only way for that to happen? Was if only she and Wells went to it and decided what a select few could go to the bunkers. Which meant she needed to tell Wells soon if she wanted him to cooperate with her.

They reached the water's edge of the creek and Clarke grabbed the canteens that Finn and Wells had brought with them, filling them up. It was only vital to them, since Clarke wasn't planning on returning to camp. She said as they filled the containers up with water, "There's a lot of vegetation. And I'm guessing animals too. I wouldn't be surprised if we found a few deer or something. Wonder if there are tracks." Her words had been bait for Finn. Since Finn was a tracker, he would be of use tracking down animals for food.

Finn spoke, making it more and more obvious he wanted to catch Clarke's attention, "I can track. I read about it. I know how to track things. Do you want me to do it?"

Clarke nodded, knowing not to give the guy too much attention. "Do what you want, Finn. Whatever makes you feel useful. Of course, when we find an animal we don't have anything to stab it with." She lifted her head and she thought about it. "I guess we could use rocks to kill the animals." Clarke heard only silence and turned to her companions, observing the stunned looks on the others' faces, including Wells's face. She rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, guys," She said, "But did I miss something? Last time I checked, you have to kill an animal first before eating it. What? Did growing up on the Ark, eating artificial foods make you forget that animals have to die first before being cooked and eaten?"

At the still stunned expressions, Clarke laughed, "Wow, did everyone on the Ark suddenly become vegetarians? Sorry, guys, but we're on Earth now. We need meat and there are no machines here to generate artificial meat. So we have to get it from the source. Or would you guys prefer to starve?"

The startling question jolted at least a few of them out of their shocked daze.

Monroe said quietly, "I have a switchblade. It was taken away from me after I was arrested. But given back when we were put on the dropship." Clarke nodded. It was the same with her father's watch. It had been taken away, then given back to her after she had been put on the dropship.

Jasper said weakly, staring at Clarke, stunned, "Wow, princess. You're badass." Clarke chuckled. Hey, she had to be.

Monty was as stunned as his friend was, and so were Finn, Fox and Harper. The thing that hurt Clarke was that Wells was looking at her like he didn't recognize her, still. It was like she was a total stranger to him. She tried to think of why this was so disturbing to him. He had to know that all things ate life in some form or other. Animals ate each other all the time. The herbivores ate plants and the carnivores ate the herbivores. And humans needed protein as well as vegetables to survive. It occurred to Clarke that it might have been how she phrased it that bothered her best friend.

Was she too callous for him?

Octavia made her feelings known as she always did. "When the hell did the council's princess turn into a professional hunter?" Octavia's startled voice was layered with aggravation.

Clarke looked at Octavia, feeling ridiculous over bewildered look. "It's not being a professional hunter." She answered, "It's fact. Animals are meat. Therefore you need to track down that meat and kill it for it to be in the form we can eat it in." She looked at Monroe. "How sharp is the knife?"

Monroe nodded. "It's pretty sharp. Could probably cut through skin and meat." Clarke shook her head. "That wasn't what I was thinking about. We only have one knife. What if we lose it? We need to make spears. There are plenty of sticks around. We can sharpen them with the knife."

Again, there were those stunned looks. Octavia snorted, "The hell? Were you just trained with a lot of survival skills?"

Wells answered quietly, still staring at Clarke, "Well, there is an Earth Skills class."

"Sorry for not knowing it." Octavia sneered. "Just spent my whole life under the floorboards. I couldn't exactly go to those classes under the floorboards."

Wells started, "I didn't mean-"

"Oh, for crying out loud," Clarke groaned, throwing her head back, "Will you guys stop it? Do you want to eat or argue? We need spears to kill animals and we're not going to make them talking about our life stories." She looked at Octavia. "I might not be the boss around here. But I don't hear any of you coming up with any bright ideas. So unless you have a gun somewhere on you to kill some deer, I don't think we're going to be eating anything unless we start making spears. Is that okay with everyone?" Her voice ended in a disgusted sneer. The stupidity of some of these kids was staggering. Bellamy, Octavia, Jasper, Finn, Murphy, Drew, Dax, Atom, Miller…God, why did they have to be so stupid? Why were they so shortsighted?

Were their lives the only things that mattered to them? It was pathetic. It was no different from a bunch of animals. Instant gratification. That was all they were interested in. It was like watching a few rabid dogs fighting over some bones. The only difference between them and dogs was that dogs didn't have the necessary intelligence to understand the difference between right and wrong unless taught by very patient owners. But humans? They had another level of intelligence altogether. But even with the teachings of what was right and what was wrong, the weak people in this group of 101 still chose to be asses. What was the point of them if they only thought about themselves?

There WASno point to them. They lived to look after only themselves and no one else. What else did you call people like that? Selfish animals and nothing more.

If Clarke had to tell them what she really thought of them to get them to move off their asses and do something with their lives, then she'd do it. It was harsh and cruel, but she didn't care. She knew what these children's future was. They were endless abysses of selfishness and stupidity. Most of them would only care about what they could get from Earth instead of trying to get the rest of the Ark down. They would give in seconds to the Mountain Men's demands, believing the Mountain Men's lies so quickly. Like they wanted their bone marrow taken.

There were times, Clarke hated to admit it, but even before this timeline she had wondered if these people even deserved to survive.

She most definitely wondered it now. Would actually argue that these kids didn't deserve to survive. They were hollow, selfish people. Nothing else. And what use did anyone have of animals that only cared about immediate gratification? The answer, sadly was right there for anyone who looked at these kids' actions closely to see. There was no use for people like that. It was sad and pitiful. There had been a time one day, long ago in another timeline that Clarke had valued all of their lives and wished to see them survive and have futures. But now, after all she had seen them do in the previous timeline? After knowing what they were capable of when given the option of comfort and safety in favor of protecting their own people?

Now she only saw shells. Useless shells who loved no one except themselves. They only cared about their own safety, their own comfort, their own lives. If they had the chance they would abandon everyone else to save themselves. It left Clarke bitter and mournful. Because what more could you do for people like that? It would be more than obvious by that time that there wasn't really anything you could do for people like that. And Clarke knew their every mistake that would be to come this timeline. It had happened in the last timeline.

And there was no hope for these people in this timeline. What was the point in protecting them? They just would make the same mistake over and over again in a different timeline. There was nothing inside them. Nothing inside but selfishness.

What was the point of them? If she didn't abandon them? They would be stuck in a loop, and she couldn't allow that.

Clarke sighed, feeling the sadness seep into her over just how empty these people were. They really were nothing but total selfishness, weren't they? It was really so, so sad. She said quietly, hiding the pity she felt, "You guys want to eat or not? So can we get the spears ready? Call me simple-minded, if you'd like. But food is a really good thing." She turned to Monroe. "Do you mind starting to sharpen some sticks for us? I bet you know how to use that knife a lot better than the rest of us. So I'm sure it will be easy for you to sharpen the spears. If you don't mind?" Clarke met Monroe's eyes, hoping to show how much she trusted the other girl, even though she didn't trust any of these kids who weren't Wells or Monty at all.

Monroe's cheeks were lightly colored pink a moment before her eyes went to the ground and she nodded, hand going to her jacket pocket and pulling out her switchblade. It was large. Black. A skinny oval in shape. There was a white bird symbol on each end of the switchblade. Monroe pressed a small button and the thin and long, silver blade shot out of the compartment of the switchblade. She reached down for a few long sticks along the ground and showed one of the sticks to Clarke. "Is this good?"

Clarke tried not to chuckle. She might not have any patience left for these kids. But Monroe asking for approval, she admitted, was one of the more cute things she had seen in this timeline. Monroe was probably doing the best she could. Is this how she would have been in the first timeline if she hadn't been so quick to fall in line with Bellamy, Murphy and the others' tyranny? It was a nice thought. But Clarke knew she needed to be careful of all those who had originally, in the other timeline, fallen in with Bellamy's group. Because obviously, Bellamy's way of thinking attracted certain people. And if they already were susceptible to that sort of persuasion, then it was only a matter of time before they showed who they really were. It didn't matter how nice or kind they might be for the first few days. When things started falling to hell, that would be when they really proved who they were.

If they were so easily attracted by the thought of anarchy, lawlessness, and even violence, then that was who they were. And they probably couldn't be trusted so deeply in a tight fix. So even though Clarke appreciated the help Monroe was giving to her now, she knew to be wary of the braided girl.

It was unfair, since none of Monroe's actions from the previous timeline had happened yet, but Clarke knew she couldn't take any chances.

She reached her hand out for Monroe to give her the stick. Monroe handed her the stick and Clarke felt around the wood, shaking it, seeing how sturdy it was.

It was fairly sturdy. It wouldn't break easily. The lessons she remembered from Lincoln, Anya and Lexa about making spears were going to be important right now. The sticks for those makeshift spears needed to be thick, sturdy and good for piercing things. It was to make sure they'd hold even after running through something big and heavy like a full-grown deer or a big chested boar.

Clarke checked the tip of the stick. It was broad and hard. It would be good for being used as a spear. She smiled and nodded at Monroe. "This one's good. Thanks."

Monroe grinned. "No problem, boss." Clarke's mouth dropped at that statement. Monroe's grin widened.

Octavia protested, "Hey, wait! She's not the boss of anyone!"

Monroe lost her grin and turned to Octavia. "Are YOU coming up with any smart ideas? I don't hear any smart ideas from you, Blake. So unless you have a good idea you can give us that keeps us from starving or getting killed by any Grounders that might be here, I'm listening to Griffin here." She looked back at Clarke. "So, what's the next plan?"

Clarke nodded, but froze as she thought about Monroe's words. Blake. Grounders. When had Octavia or Bellamy announced what their last name was? And no one even knew that there were other human beings down here. Plus, they hadn't talked about "Grounders" ever in this timeline. How did Monroe know those two pieces of information?

Clarke stared at Monroe, but the braided girl was turned away from her. Questions popped up. Had Monroe met Octavia and her brother before they had been put in the dropship? Sure, the first of the two things Clarke had heard could be explained with that possibility. But the second thing could not be so easily explained. The term "Grounders" had been coined by Finn and Monty when they had come running back into camp after Jasper had first been speared. And they hadn't even discussed the possibility that there were other human beings on the ground yet.

There was no way Monroe would know that word without speaking with Monty and Finn about it first. Sure, "Grounders" seemed like the obvious name to call those born on the ground, but that was a very specific thing to call a group of people. Clarke stared at Monroe for what felt like three whole minutes. Did Monroe…?

"Princess," Trina said, stepping forward. Clarke turned around and faced her. "I can read the stars and constellations. I read a lot on how to do it. I know a lot about constellations. I can direct us back if we decide to go back tonight." Clarke nodded, even though she couldn't help but hold Trina's accuracy with what she claimed in question. She wasn't the only one as it turned out.

Pascal was smirking behind her. "Sure you can." Trina turned around and glared at him.

She smacked his arm. "Stop it." Clarke chuckled. She didn't remember either of them from last time. Which made her think they had died incredibly early in the last timeline. She wasn't sure when they could have died. Was it during the few Grounder attacks that had happened before the battle between their camp and Anya's army happened? Maybe.

"So," Clarke said, noticing Finn about to speak and not wanting to hear what he had to say, "What did the two of you get locked up for?" She wasn't interested in being polite about it. Because lord knew none of them would be polite to her.

Trina looked hesitant at first but answered, frowning, "Pascal and I wanted to try some drugs while we were having sex, so we stole some of the supplies for it."

Pascal smirked and said, "Totally worth it."

Monty laughed, "You guys too? Jasper and I stole some drugs too."

"We said we were 'sorry.'" Jasper grumbled.

Clarke rolled her eyes. Yes, everyone was sorry when they were caught. But were they ever sorry for real? And sure, stealing drugs was a really minor crime. Especially the types of drugs Monty and Jasper would have stolen. But that was just the personality of all these kids. Thinking that if they said 'sorry' enough, they could say that they hadn't done anything wrong or that they'd do it again.

Jasper looked over at Octavia. "So what were you arrested for?" Clarke restrained herself from smirking. And this was where Jasper started showing off what an ass he was.

"Being born." Octavia said with such finality that she didn't give any other words except for that.

Monty grumbled to Jasper, "That was not game, Jasper."

Clarke shook her head and looked at Wells. "You never told me what it was you did to get arrested."

Wells looked surprised and answered, "Oh, uh-I attacked a guard."

Clarke almost dropped the canteen she had been holding, scooping the water from the creek over and stared at her friend and brother. Wells? Wells had attacked a guard? She stared at him, trying to read if Wells was making this up. Wells looked deadly serious.

Wells answered before Clarke could ask any more questions. "I needed to do something public that I knew dad couldn't pardon me for. If I had stolen or told someone about the Ark dying, he could have said it was someone else. But since I attacked a guard in a public area, he couldn't sweep that under the rug. So he had me put in the skybox." Clarke sighed. That made sense. It was still hard to believe that Wells had attacked a guard. Even if it was for her, she had always known Wells was the gentler of the two of them.

She had always questioned after Wells had died in the first timeline if he would have been able to do the things she had died afterwards. It looked like she was going to find out if she had anything to say about it.

"Thank you, Wells." Clarke said quietly. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Wells's grin appeared and Clarke felt lighter. She hoped Wells would hear her out and believe everything she had to tell him, no matter how insane it all was. She knew it was crazy. But she severely hoped Wells would believe her. Clarke turned to Fox and to Harper. "What about you guys?" Fox looked uneasy and Clarke nodded. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Harper spoke up, "I stole some food. It wasn't even that much. But I got put away just for that."

Clarke nodded. "Yeah. Jaha's an idiot." She looked at Wells, ignoring the surprised looks she got from the others. "Sorry, Wells."

Wells shook his head. "No. I agree with you. My dad….." Wells looked a little disgusted, "Trust me. I think my dad's a piece of shit. I want the rest of the Ark to come down. But my dad doesn't deserve to be chancellor. He never did." Clarke stared at him, surprised at his words. She always knew that he disapproved of the way his father ran things and determined to be better than that, should he ever become chancellor. But she hadn't thought he had as severe an aversion to his father as this.

She looked at some of the others and saw the startled expressions of Jasper, Monty, Octavia, Finn and Harper. Their shock was obvious. Monroe chuckled behind them, "I guess royalty have a lot dirtier mouths than we'd have thought."

Clarke turned and gave Monroe an aggravated look. "And you?" She asked the other girl. "What was it you did to get arrested?"

Monroe snickered. "That question makes it sound like I tried to get arrested. I promise you, I didn't. This asshole was stalking a friend of mine. In one of the lower levels of the Ark. So I beat the crap out of him." Monroe smirked, then added, "And yeah, she did report the guy stalking her to the guards. And to Jaha. None of them did anything. So I had to do something." Clarke nodded, wincing. This didn't sound surprising at all. Stalkers weren't taken seriously until someone was raped, hurt or killed. Or all three. Then it usually was too late. Often the only option was for civilians to take precautions. And it looked like Monroe had taken matters into her own hands.

Clarke might have at one time gone against the decision of vigilantism. But given she knew well what kinds of protection you got from people in charge like Jaha, the Ice Queen (Nia), Lexa, Anya and Bellamy, she was out of excuses for them. She couldn't care at all. It sounded like Monroe had done the best that she could at the time.

Clarke nodded. "You're a good friend." Clarke said. "What's the friend's name?" Monroe answered, "Roma. She came down with us. She told me when we were strapped in together that she would rather come down with me than stay a second longer on the Ark as long as that guy was still alive."

Clarke felt a slight shiver at that. Roma. The girl that died in the first timeline. The one that got a spear in the side of the neck. The one that slept with Bellamy. That was kind of sad. She had escaped a stalker. Only to end up in Bellamy's bed. She had traded one abuser for another. Roma being in the older Blake sibling's bed made it seem like it was all Roma's choice. But here was the thing about power imbalances. Choices were blurry. Roma most likely slept with the older person with the most authority in the camp to feel safer. In hopes that she would not be abused. And with a man like Bellamy, Roma might not have been wrong in assessing him like that.

It was then that Clarke fought a shiver when she realized that Bellamy, the man she had at one time thought of as another older brother, besides Wells, might actually be a rapist.

"Roma." Clarke repeated, trying to ignore her nausea. "I see." Clarke thought about all of this and she noticed how Monroe was watching her.

Monroe said quietly in a voice that Clarke just barely heard, "You know who I'm talking about, Clarke." She turned back to the stick in her hand and started to scrape away at the peels of wood again with her knife. Clarke's mouth parted slightly. The way Monroe said that, it was like she was expecting Clarke to know. Did…did Monroe remember?

Clarke shook herself. She'd find out later. She didn't know how any of this was possible. But she'd find out later. She turned back to the others. "Finn," She began. "You're a tracker, right? Well, do you mind tracking for us? We need food." Finn nodded, going over to the opposite side of the creek, leaning down and pushing back some moss from some soil. Clarke went back to filling the other canteens with water.

Octavia's dry voice came through as the brunette stalked over, "Hey, Space Walker, I'm joining you. You deserve better than to be bossed around by some stuck up princess." Clarke again, for the eighteenth time felt the need to roll her eyes. Octavia might as well have a sign on her that read, "I am a self-centered, irritating brat." She was sure that if Octavia looked in the water and saw herself, she would become the next mythical "Narcissus." But she didn't have time to think about Octavia and how shallow she was.

There were more important things right now.

She kneeled down and handed the canteens to Wells. "Could you fill these up, Wells? I'm going to speak with Monroe for a second." Wells nodded and took the canteens. Clarke stood up again and walked over to Monroe. "Hey, Monroe?" She said to the other girl. "A word?" Monroe eyed her and nodded, slapping the blade of her knife shut and putting it into her other jacket pocket. She brought the stick with her, following Clarke to some of the other trees, further away from the rest of the group. Clarke glanced at the others, seeing if they would try to listen in.

Harper, Fox, Jasper and Monty all looked startled and watched, but didn't come closer. Trina and Pascal both looked confused, but stayed where they were. Wells watched them, but looked back down at the canteens. Then there was Octavia who seemed too preoccupied with flirting with Finn to notice. Good. Clarke turned to Monroe.

"Monroe, I need you to be completely honest with me," Clarke began carefully, "Is that okay?" Clarke didn't want to come off as rude, but she needed answers now. Monroe looked at Clarke, surprised, and nodded.

"Go ahead." Monroe said, "Ask away."

Clarke sighed, and asked the question that was making her nervous. "What are Grounders?"

Monroe blinked at the question. She stepped back and smirked. "I wondered when you'd catch that. I guess not long."

Clarke stared at Monroe, her mouth dropping. "You remember?"

Monroe nodded, her green eyes hard. "I wish I didn't. Fuck…" Monroe frowned, angry. "I'm sorry, Clarke. I didn't know Bell was going to sell you out to Pike." Clarke sighed, feeling like Monroe had punched her. The reminder of what had happened still was so fresh. Probably because it had just happened for her, even though it had been a lifetime ago.

"It wasn't your fault, Monroe," Clarke said, "There were only two people at fault for that. Bellamy and Pike. No one else."

Monroe nodded, but she didn't look convinced. "I know. Still, I felt like I should have known. So yeah, I remember. I remember how badly Bell fucked up. How badly I fucked up for not doing anything. I knew you remembered too when you started acting different. You made different choices. So I knew you had to remember."

Monroe added, looking like she might start crying, "I'm sorry I wasn't more help the first time."

Clarke shook her head, stunned that someone else remembered, but relieved, "It's okay. If we fix it now, then we can stop it all before it even happens."

Monroe nodded. "But how?"

Clarke sighed, "Well, for one? We don't listen to Bellamy. Ever. We don't go back to camp and we don't trust anything he says. We were both wrong for trusting him."

Monroe nodded. "Well, that's a given. I'm surprised you didn't get a heart attack or didn't punch him when he got close to you before." Clarke's jaw tightened, remembering how she felt when Bellamy had blatantly tried to threaten her back at the dropship. His words, cutting her down in the previous timeline. Monroe saw the deceit too. And was done with it. At least, Clarke hoped this was all genuine.

Clarke's chest felt tight when she started speaking again, "Trust me, it was hard. But we have to think about what we can do better. I don't think we can return to camp. If it's going to be anything like last time, then my guess? Bellamy already has half the camp's wristbands off by now. As long as we have the bands on now, and we keep them working and no one in this group dies, then the Ark will know that Earth is livable." Clarke added, "Besides, you remember those bunkers we found with radios?"

Monroe's eyes widened and she nodded. "Oh yeah, I forgot about those."

Clarke said, "Well, we get to those and get Wells and Monty working on them so we can tell the Ark not to freak out when they see no one else's wristbands are working but ours. We tell them that someone else is doing it and not to pay any attention. We bring them down to Earth."

Monroe grinned. "That's a good idea. Wells is good with technology?"

Clarke nodded. "Yeah. That and Earth Skills he's always been better at than me." Clarke turned her head and looked at Wells getting water. "I really wouldn't get anywhere without him."

Monroe gave a surprised laugh, "Uh, princess? That's bullshit." Clarke looked back at Monroe, startled at the exclamation. Monroe gave her a strong, convicted look. "We would have died ten times before if it wasn't for YOU." Monroe shook her head, "When I think about it now, you saved us way more than Bell did. He treated us like soldiers. You made sure we were safe. He just put us in more danger by killing three hundred people in their sleep. He almost got us thrown into another war."

Clarke's mouth became dry and her eyes widened. She had always thought that Monroe respected and practically worshipped Bellamy. She hadn't seen this coming. She knew to expect some caution from Monroe when it came to Bellamy if Monroe remembered. But not to this level.

"He helped. Sometimes." Clarke pointed out, thinking about the battle between their group and Anya's army, and pulling the lever in the mountain with her.

Monroe sighed, looking bereft. "When?" She asked. "When he tried to get everyone on the Ark killed? Or when he talked about cutting your hand off to get your wristband?" Clarke stared at Monroe, startled. Wait, when had that happened? Monroe nodded, glaring over at where Clarke assumed Octavia was. "Yeah, Murphy told me. When you, Wells, Bell and him went to get Jasper after Jasper got speared, he talked about cutting off your hand to get your wristband."

Clarke's skin crawled, hearing this. She wasn't sure what had changed Bellamy's mind in the end. But he had. She wasn't going to risk it this time. There was only one direction he would go. And she knew that now. When someone continually went on the same path, then it was fairly predictable to say that they would commit violence and only violence.

Bellamy wasn't worth saving. If he could be. Even if he could be, it wasn't her job. She wasn't responsible for a man-child who took advantage of underage girls and regularly abused children. Everything he did was his responsibility.

She didn't exist to save a full-grown human being from his own stupid, childish mistakes.

"What else did he do that I don't know about?" Clarke asked, now troubled.

Monroe looked guilty now. Her eyes went to the ground. "I'm sorry. I…..remember when Wells got his wristband taken off? I was part of that. Bell wanted us to gang up on Wells because he told us that we'd be in control instead. So we all pinned him down while Wells was telling us not to. We attacked him. I'm sorry, Clarke."

Clarke sighed, feeling anger rise in her chest. She couldn't hold Monroe entirely responsible. She knew how that kind of mentality worked. You feared that if you didn't do as you were told, you'd be treated like the other people who were being victimized. These delinquents were under the control of the most selfish leader in the world besides the Ice Queen, Nia and Dante Wallace and his son, so what else was going to happen?

"It's alright." Clarke said begrudgingly. "It's not entirely your fault. You were just one of a group of people acting like thugs. If you hadn't been part of that group, then some idiot would have taken your place. What else happened?"

Monroe shrugged. "I think you know the rest. Raven's radio. Those 300 people that died on the Ark to save oxygen because Bellamy threw the radio away. Then everything happened with the Grounders and the mountain. And then Pike got elected because of Bellamy. And then he and Pike and other soldiers killed those Grounders in their sleep after Gina died. Bell just went nuts after she died. Then you tried to get him to talk with the Commander and he sold you out."

That was it. That was their entire chronological grim story. It made a chill go down Clarke's back. She had trusted the wrong person and had paid for it with her life. Someone she had trusted her life with before and he had proven to be the right person. Someone who she thought had changed so dramatically. But here was the question, had Bellamy really changed at all?

Or when he had brought her to Pike to be killed, had Bellamy been more like himself than he had ever been in the mountain?

When they had first come down on Earth, now in fact, Bellamy didn't take off those life monitoring wristbands hadn't been for the sake of freedom. It had been for his own survival. It hadn't even been for Octavia. It had been for his life. Because he had almost killed Jaha. Clarke's eyes went wide and she turned her head to look at Wells. Right…Jaha. Wells didn't know!

"What is it?" Monroe asked, following Clarke's gaze.

"Wells." Clarke answered softly, turning back to the braided girl. "He doesn't know that Bellamy shot Jaha."

Monroe paled. "Right. Forgot about that. Crap. When should we tell him?"

Clarke smiled, feeling respect for the other girl. Monroe had said "when," not "should we tell him?" Meaning she knew that Wells had the right to know and didn't think it was right to keep it from him, despite who his father was.

"We'll figure it out." Clarke answered. She wasn't sure when they'd tell him. But they would. This in the end had happened because of one immoral, horrible person. They could come up with excuses and means of demonizing the Grounders all they wanted. But there was only one person to blame for the 300 that died on the Ark and Jaha almost dying and everyone else on the Ark almost not coming down. It was the same person that made sure a bigoted murderer like Pike got elected. It was the same person that had killed 300 Grounders in their sleep and then tried to destroy a Grounder village just because they were in the way. It was the same person that had willingly led Clarke to her death. His name was Bellamy Blake. The person that he had been before Clarke had died? The person that tricked her into trusting him and then tore her down emotionally and gave her to someone who shot her in the head?

That was the real Bellamy. He hadn't changed when he had been inside the mountain and had even pulled the lever to end the people inside with Clarke. No, he hadn't changed. The situations had. He had worked with Clarke in the mountain and to form an alliance with Lexa's army because he needed to at the time. He did what was needed so that he and his sister was safe. Maybe he had been doing it for all of them too. But that was minor in comparison when you really thought about it.

If you looked at what Bellamy did too hard, you realized there were flaws in every good thing he did. And she really, really didn't want to do that. She was still reeling from being killed. Even though he hadn't pulled the trigger that had ended her life, Bellamy might as well have. Bellamy was the one that had brought her to Pike to be executed. He earned her trust. He handcuffed her and told her everything was her fault, even though he had killed 300 people out of revenge. And almost got them into war.

That? That was the real Bellamy. Because when someone consistently made those same choices as they did at least a year ago, the same ones that got hundreds of people killed and you made excuses about it or blamed someone else for it, as Bellamy had blamed her for Murphy almost being lynched and blamed her and Raven when those 300 people on the Ark had died, then there was the proof. That was an unfortunate, but apparent sign.

If a person continually made these choices after months and months of dangers, toils, trials and fighting next to each other, there was just one conclusion. This person was just rotten to the core. There was no help for something like that. Clarke had never believed in monsters. In evil. Evil in every sense of the word. Her father would have told her that there was no such thing as evil people. Just good people making stupider decisions than other people make.

And for the longest time, Clarke had believed that. Even after those 300 people had died on the Ark because Raven's radio was ruthlessly snatched up by Bellamy and thrown into the river because he was only trying to save his life and decided it was okay for millions to die for him, she had wanted to believe that there was no such thing as evil. Because there couldn't be. Everyone was a human being in all these situations.

Some people just made worse decisions than others.

That was what Clarke kept telling herself after those 300 people died on the Ark. It was one of the few things that kept her going. Then she, Bellamy and the others faced the Grounders together. They had been separated thanks to the mountain. Then reunited. And she had trusted Bellamy. She had trusted him so much. And he had pulled the lever with her in the mountain. At that time, she would have trusted him with her life.

And then he showed who he really was when he elected Pike. She trusted him with her life, and he had responded by turning on her as fast as he could. And said that she was responsible for everything.

She knew at that time, when she heard those words and realized he regretted nothing, that she had been wrong all along. There WAStrue evil in the world. She had been looking right at true evil before he brought her to Pike to be killed. Bellamy was pure evil. She still wished she didn't see him that way. But what else did you call someone who had killed 600 people needlessly? 300 to save his own life only, and 300 for revenge? Not to mention almost leaving the rest of the Sky People to die in the mountain when the Mountain Men almost killed them? And then almost destroyed a whole village of people, knowing that they were of a different tribe than the one that had killed Gina? What else did you call someone who did that?

The same evil that was in Bellamy had been in Christopher Columbus of the old age. The same bigotry. The same small-mindedness. The same hatred and cruelty of all those who didn't instantly submit to his will. A genocidal murderer. Clarke knew that she wasn't entirely different in that last respect. But she knew the difference between what she had to do at the mountain and what she and her people had had to do when facing Anya's army. It was either kill all of them or all of them would be killed. It was a very shitty situation where it was self-defense. Clarke was kind of proud of herself for knowing it now. After the mountain, she never would have had that kind of conviction like she had now. But she knew it now. There was a difference between what she had to do and what Bellamy had done.

The 300 on the Ark? The 300 Grounders that Bellamy had helped kill in their sleep? The rest of the Ark that had almost died because of Bellamy's selfishness? That Grounder village?

All of that had been for one person only. Either for his survival or revenge. It had been for the murderer who only saw himself. Bellamy.

That was who he really was. A monster. An evil animal and nothing more. It wasn't even sad. It wasn't even disturbing or enraging. It was just dangerous. A danger that had to be put down, soon.

That put her priorities back into gear. Clarke turned to Monroe, eyes narrowed. "Monroe," She said, "I want to believe that you're really siding with me. But how do I know that you're not a spy? How do I know first chance you get that you won't tell Bellamy everything?"

Monroe looked hurt for a second and Clarke felt really bad. Monroe probably was telling the truth. She wanted to believe that Monroe was telling the truth. But the last time Clarke had placed her trust wrong, it had ended with a bullet in her head. The other time with Lexa and Anya, it had ended with all of her people nearly being killed in the mountain. So yes, unfortunately, Clarke had to be sure that Monroe was trustworthy. Monroe sighed, looking ashamed again. She nodded and met Clarke's eyes seriously. "Clarke," Monroe said, "Ever since we got to the ground the first time, I respected, I never stopped respecting Bell. And I would have followed him anywhere. I thought he was going off the deep end when Pike got elected, but I didn't know what to do. Then he tricked you and got you murdered. I'm sorry, but that's my breaking point. If he's going to manipulate and betray family, then I can't stand by."

Clarke knew she should have spoken up about the fact that Monroe didn't do anything when there were three hundred people being killed by Bellamy, but was struck by what Monroe had said. Family? Monroe called her 'family?' She and Monroe had gotten along. Would protect each other if need be. But in the previous timeline, they had never been that close. And Monroe considered her family.

"I….." Monroe hesitated, again, appearing as if she would rather do anything else than say what she was about to say. "I didn't know about the massacre of the 300 Grounders. I swear, I didn't. I found out afterwards. And I thought they were the same tribe that had killed Gina when I found out. Then that shit happened with the village. And I promise I didn't want any part of it. I was trying to get people to help me stop it. So were Raven, Monty and Harper. And you came and then he betrayed you and got you killed." Monroe shook her head, face a visage of disgust. "I'm just so sorry, Clarke. I swear, I'll never follow him again."

Clarke sighed. She wanted to believe Monroe. Really, she did. And a part of her already did. Everything seemed so honest. But then, so had Lexa, Anya and Bellamy.

"Fine." She said, nodding, "I'll trust you. For now." Monroe's smile sprang up onto her face and Clarke almost laughed at how cute it was. "But I'm telling you, Monroe," Clarke said darkly, "If I even get the sense that you're going to betray me, I'll do what I have to do. Betray me to Bellamy, and I'll kill you. You better pray it will be fast."

She was sure she just saw Monroe gulp after she said that. Monroe nodded. "Got it, boss." Monroe said.

Clarke sighed, smirking. "You don't need to call me 'boss,' or 'princess,' or anything. Just 'Clarke.' Nothing else except that."

Monroe nodded, smile coming back. Clarke turned around and looked at the others who were staring at her and Monroe. Octavia looking the most impatient of them. Wells was watching them with disturbed fascination. He really just wanted to know what was going on. Jasper was messing with some moss with a stick and Monty was telling him to knock it off.

Octavia snapped at them, "Oh, are you guys finally done?! Sorry to interrupt your secret meeting, princess," She sneered the title out. "But Finn found a bunch of tracks that lead to the West of here. He thinks that means there's a bigger river nearby."

Clarke nodded.

"Sounds like you don't have patience for Octavia anymore either, huh?" Monroe chuckled, speaking quietly as they moved from their position by the trees.

Clarke snorted, "Do you? The 'I almost got floated for being born' excuse for how abusive and selfish she is only works for so long. At some point, you need to take responsibility for your actions."

Monroe snickered next to Clarke, "I guess that's why she likes you. You're tough too."

Clarke turned to Monroe in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Dude," Monroe chuckled, stopping in her tracks and she subtly nodded to Octavia, "You know Octavia's been into you since day one, right?" Clarke's brain felt like it would explode with this information. What? When had THAT happened? When had Octavia been interested in her?

"Lincoln-" Clarke started, but Monroe shook her head,

"Yeah, she loved the guy. But you? She never stopped wishing you would come back after you left camp. She never stopped looking for you. When she was with Lincoln, I swear, her eyes looked distant. Like she was thinking of someone else." Monroe quipped.

Clarke was very confused. Again. Had this all been in Monroe's imagination? The last part, probably, right? It had to have been. Octavia had been crazy about Lincoln. What Monroe was saying sounded insane. Even more insane than all of them coming back in time and only her and Monroe remembering.

Octavia…..she didn't have feelings for Clarke. Clarke would have noticed something if Octavia had feelings for her. She was sure of that.

It made Clarke suddenly wonder about all their interactions. All the times at the dropship when they bonded or Octavia got angry, or in Ton DC or in the mountain. Those times, when so much anger and intensity had been thrown at her, had that been because Octavia actually had had a thing for her for a long time?

Monroe chuckled, "So we go to the bases and get Monty and Wells there? Where are those bases?" Clarke snapped out of her stunned haze with that question. "Yeah. They're East. Opposite direction of here. We need to be going east for that. Not west.

Monroe nodded. "Got it. Remember what's west of here?"

Clarke nodded. "Yeah. A river where Jasper gets hit in the chest with a spear."

Monroe's eyes went wide. "Shit, it's there? Yeah, we want to avoid that." She answered.

Clarke nodded. "So here's the plan if you're onboard. We get them to the bunkers to get the radios. You stay with Wells and Monty when we get down there. Tell them I said to try and contact the Ark and tell them that we heard Bellamy plan on the Ark to take off peoples' wristbands down here so he can kill everyone and he'll be in total control down here. Tell them that he wants the Ark to die so he stays in control and that he's the one that shot Jaha. I'll go with the others to bring back food and water to the rest of you."

Monroe nodded. "Okay. So when should we start doing this?"

Clarke looked at the others and said quietly, "Now. "

"Alright." Monroe answered.

Clarke walked over, Monroe next to her. "Okay." Clarke began, "We want to get the animals, right? Well, great job, Finn. Lead on." Finn looked surprised, then he straightened up and Clarke fought a smirk, knowing she had just fed into his need to flirt with her.

He got up, looking more confident and followed the length of the ground where the tracks covered. "This way. Let's move." Clarke started moving, getting a confused look from Monroe.

Clarke sighed quietly to Monroe, "If we tell them to go another way when I just told them to look for tracks, there's going to be some questions. We'll lead them into the opposite direction."

Monroe narrowed her eyes. "How?"

"We'll figure it out," Clarke said, and added with a grin, "But for that, I think we're going to need Jasper's enthusiasm, and we need a really good lie from you."


	3. Hatred is an easy thing to feel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the chapters are a little weird by format, sorry, it's because I still haven't figured out how the whole chapter thing works on Archive. Remember, I'm used to uploading fics on Fanfiction.

Diverting the others from continuing on their path to the river where Jasper would eventually be felled by the spear was surprisingly easy, as Monroe found out. All she had to do was pretend that she had seen a few plants that looked like weed and pretend she saw a deer running in the opposite direction, when no one was looking and Jasper darted in that direction before any of them even knew it. Clarke shared a look with Monroe.

Clarke's look said, told you.

Monty was the first to chase after Jasper, worried. Clarke, Monroe and Wells followed. Finn and Octavia next. Pascal, Trina, Fox and Harper came in the rear.

Clarke eventually mentioned to Monroe that back at camp, Bellamy had a gun in his belt. Probably the one he had used to shoot Jaha.

Monroe had winced and Clarke had nodded, saying that they needed to move fast and tell the rest of the Arkers about what was going on at the camp.

Eventually, they reached where Clarke told Monroe the bases were. She informed Monroe that the moss was covering over both of them. She wandered over to the base opening and pretended to tap her foot along till she felt metal underneath. That was when Clarke enacted her plan. She yelled into the growing dark as Monty and Finn dragged Jasper back, "Hey, I think I found something!"

She knew Wells had the canteens of water. That was good. They'd need it while Wells and Monty were hooking things up in the base. Clarke brushed away the leaves that had accumulated and the shrubs, moss and grass that started growing along the plate of the base's entrance.

Clarke pushed everything back to reveal the big, rusty, metal, square base entrance's lid. She heard a few gasps next to her. "Whoa." Jasper said, "Cool." "That's really impressive, princess. Nice job." Finn commented and Clarke didn't have to turn around to know that he was smirking at her with desire in his eyes. Again, Clarke fought not to snort. Finn really didn't understand subtly, did he?

"But where does it lead?" Wells asked.

"We're about to find out." Clarke said, sending a meaningful look to Monroe, who nodded. Clarke reached down and jammed her fingers under the lid. She said to Wells, "Hey, Wells, a little help?" She noticed Wells nod next to her and he put the canteens down on the ground. He went to the other side of the lid and pushed away the mud, moss and other plant life away.

"I'll help too!" Finn announced, running to the other side of the Lid and kneeled down, grabbing one end. Monroe grabbed the other end, across from Clarke. The four began to lift the thin, metal lid up. When the creaking, slow moving lid was halfway up, Clarke saw the technology and guns down below inside the bunker's depths. The bunker was completely blacked out, but even in the dark, Clarke could make out the outlines of long rifles, barrels of explosives and guns and two big, chunky radio panels.

"Eureka." Monroe said. "Looks like we have some useful shit down there." They shoved the metal plate all the way back, the lid creaking, crashing down on the ferns and shrubs a few feet from them.

"What is all that stuff?" Pascal asked, looking down into the bunker.

"Looks like guns to me." Clarke said, not caring if they wondered how she knew guns so well. She went to the stairs and carefully stepped down the steps, pulling off pieces of her shirt and wrapping them around the sides of the ladder, so as to avoid any rust. Each of her hands hand a shred of her shirt covering the sides of the ladder.

"Damn," Jasper chuckled. "Wish she'd take more of her shirt off." Clarke smirked in the dark when she heard a light smack against Jasper's arm.

"Knock it off, Jasper." Monty said. "What is that stuff? Looks like machines."

"Yeah." Clarke said, climbing down all the way, remembering where the light switches were in this place. Sure, they hadn't been used in decades. But for some reason, as Clarke and Finn had found out when they first found it in the previous timeline, the lights still worked. She knew better than to instantly go to where the lights were. That would look suspicious. The others would wonder how she knew where to go to turn on the lights. So when she got to the bottom of the ladder, she kept the strips of cloth in her hands and groped around in the dark, along the walls.

She knew exactly where the closest light switch was. And she found it. "What's this?" She grumbled, pretending to be confused. She flipped it on and the bright white lights bled into the room. She heard a bunch of gasps above her. She wisely pretended to be stunned too. "Shit!" She exclaimed. "The lights still really work?"

"I guess." Finn sounded awed and he started going down the ladder.

Clarke snapped at him, remembering that some of the other kids, Conner and Drew got infections from stupidly touching the rusty ladders, "Be careful, Finn. That ladder probably hasn't been cleaned in a while. And I don't think we have any tetanus syringes we can use on you to help you if you get infected."

As she expected, she got a confident chuckle in return. "Ah, come on, princess. I'll be fine. Loosen up. You gotta be impressed with all this stuff!"

Clarke snorted. She mentally counted down in her head, already sure what was going to happen, even without it having happened in the previous timeline.

To her surprise, no one got jabbed by a sharp piece of metal with rust along it. Well, thank goodness for small bouts of luck.

When everyone was down in the bunker with her, Clarke grabbed Wells's wrist and pulled him to the radios, nodding to it. "Hey, Wells," She said, making sure everyone heard. "Do you think you can hook these up? We could contact the Ark and tell them we landed and that the Earth's air is breathable. And that all the millions of people on the Ark can survive down here."

She looked at everyone else, a challenge on her face, "Is everyone okay with that? Or does everyone think that millions of people should die just because you were treated unfairly? Should millions and millions of people die for your pain and resentment?" Clarke was looking right at Octavia now, waiting for an answer. She knew already what Octavia would say. But she also knew what Octavia wanted to say. And when it came to Octavia, those things often were interchangeable.

Octavia glared at her and looked away. "Screw you." She said. "I just blame your mom and Jaha's dad and the rest of the council."

"Oh good," Clarke said, smirking, "So you only want a quarter of people on the Ark, being thousands of people who never met you dead, not millions. You're such a good person." She let the sneer into her voice, getting a startled look from Octavia and Clarke let the vicious smile stay on her face. She turned back to Wells. "So, do you think you can do it?"

Wells nodded, looking surprised. "I'll try." "

Great." Clarke said, turning to the others, "I don't suppose anyone else here knows how to operate technology like this?" She avoided looking at Monty, but wasn't surprised when he stepped over.

"I do." Monty said quietly. "You do?" Clarke asked, feigning surprise. "Then please come here. You could help a lot of people on the Ark."

She knew already that these radios could be operated. And she knew that even if Octavia, Jasper, Finn or any of them outside of her and Monroe opened their big mouths to Bellamy about these radios and it led to Bellamy predictably destroying the radios, there was still that other bunker with the radios. And those were working well too. But she wouldn't let them in on where those radios were just yet.

Wells and Monty started fiddling around with the technology and turning bolts and looking at levers. Clarke smiled and turned away from them. She knew that Monty had had the radios up and running in under a few days. With Wells working, it would be even less than that. She trusted them both with this.

She got closer to the others and said, watching Finn, Jasper and Fox look around the bunker, "Do you think we should stay here for tonight? It's a place we can hide in case there are predators. What do you think?"

Clarke didn't care about the answer. As long as they had access to radios, they had a chance. All she needed were Wells, Monty and Monroe on this. The others, living or dying were hardly her concern. The callousness she found herself feeling was frightening. Wow. It was like she didn't care about anyone anymore. She fought a grim smile, tightening her lips so that she didn't show off teeth. It looked like Lexa got what she wanted. A heartless leader, just like Lexa had wanted her to be. Well, Lexa was going to regret ever wishing this on her.

To Clarke's relief, Pascal and Trina nodded. Harper shrugged. "I think we should stay here."

"Yeah." Jasper said, grinning at the large room and getting close to the bulky weapons. "This is so cool. Almost like a spy movie."

Clarke sighed, stepping closer to Jasper. "Don't touch those. Have you ever used a gun before? I don't think any of us want to be accidentally shooting each other before the Ark even gets down here."

Jasper grinned. "Hey, come on. I know what I'm doing."

Clarke snorted. "Yeah, those were every famous last words in every action movie ever, Jasper."

Clarke went over to Monroe. "Monroe, need to speak with you a second." Monroe nodded and walked over with Clarke to the back of the room.

They heard Octavia groan, "Again?! Seriously, Monroe, you're trusting her more than us?"

Monroe ignored Octavia's irritating question as she looked at Clarke. Clarke began, voice quiet, "I'm going to go look for some food with a couple of the others. If you stay down here with them, they'll listen to you. You're more of their world than I'll ever be. So could you please stay with them and make sure they don't grab any weapons or shoot them? And make sure Wells and Monty keep working on the radios?"

Monroe looked conflicted. "I don't think I like you going out there with Grounders around. In the dark."

Clarke nodded, even if she was a little confused as to why Monroe was so worried about her. Then again, it might just have been because Monroe figured that Clarke was the best chance of survival. "It's fine, Monroe." She promised. "I won't be alone. Just promise me you'll make sure everyone's safe here and working on the radio. And whatever happens, promise me you won't trust any Grounders. Except for Lincoln."

Monroe nodded. "Yeah, that's an obvious one." She said. "Fuck the Commander. Fuck Anya too. Lincoln's the only one that can be trusted."

Clarke smiled. "So you see anyone you don't recognize and they look like a Grounder, shoot in the air. Don't shoot them, we don't want to be attacked. But scare them off."

Monroe nodded. "Okay."

Clarke said quietly. She added, "And another thing. We cannot go near Mount Weather, alright? Wells still thinks we need to go to Mount Weather. If he talks about it at all, tell him no and that there's no way, alright?" Monroe nodded, eyes showing the fear of the Mountain Men that those murderers had instilled in them.

Clarke looked around at the others who were a few feet away. "So while Wells and Monty are hooking things up to contact the Ark, I'm going to go get us food. I don't think it's a good idea if any of us go alone. So will any of you come with me?"

Wells almost dropped everything, and was about to walk closer, till Clarke gave him a look. "Wells, I need you are better with technology than I'll ever hope to be. I need you to repair those radios so that the Ark can get down here. I know you want to help me, but I'll be okay. I promise."

Wells looked like he'd rather do anything else except listen to her right now, but nodded.

Clarke smiled. "Thanks, Wells." She looked back at the others. When Jasper was about to step forward, she said to him, "I think Monty would appreciate it if you stayed with him and helped, Jasper. Right, Monty?" Clarke gave Monty a hopeful look and Monty nodded, his eyes showing some sympathy to her for his friend's attention.

Monty looked at Jasper. "Yeah, Jasp. Come help me, okay?"

Jasper frowned, looking unhappy. "Okay." He said quietly and walked over to stand next to Monty.

Clarke looked at the others. "What about you guys?" She asked Fox, Harper, Pascal and Trina. "Pascal? Trina? Fox? Harper? Any of you?"

"Sure." Pascal said. "I'll go."

He looked at Trina and she nodded, smiling. "Sure. Why not?"

"I'll come too." Harper said, smiling, appearing enthusiastic.

Much to Clarke's irritation, Finn spoke up, "I'll come-"

"I'll skip it." Clarke said dryly, glaring at the wounded looking Finn. "Look, I've made it clear, buddy. I don't like you. Maybe after a few obvious rejections, you should take a hint. When someone says they're not interested, they're not interested. Anything more than that and you become a stalker. Deal with it. Now go ahead and masturbate and think of Raven. It's probably the most you've done for Raven since coming down here. My guess you would have forgotten her first chance you got if not for me."

Again, almost everyone, save for Monroe were shocked by what Clarke had said. "Damn," Pascal laughed, "The girl's got a dirty mouth."

Finn looked like he had been punched and was paling a great deal. Jasper and Monty were both looking at her as if she was some rare species of predator that they might need to run away from soon. Wells still was looking at her like he didn't recognize her. She tried to ignore the pain that that look caused. Wells knew her. He knew her better than anyone here. Anyone in the 101 that had come down in that dropship. He knew her maybe better than anyone on the Ark did.

She ignored the pain in her chest. She had to think about getting food for them. They would lose their strength soon if they didn't get any food. She turned to Monroe. "I guess you can keep your knife. We have guns we can use to hunt now."

Monroe nodded, smirking. "I guess we'll have plenty to eat now, huh?"

"Yeah," Clarke said, "No kidding." She went to the closest gun, picking it up in her arms and cradling it, tossing the strap over her left shoulder and head. Pascal, Trina, Fox, Harper and Octavia backed away, startled.

Clarke opened the gun's body up, checking the bullets. The gun was loaded. All of the bullets were in the big, boxy magazine. She found a few other magazines around the magazine in the gun's size, and she took them from the floor, putting them into her pocket after making sure all magazines had bullets inside them.

When she was with all the weapons she needed, she looked at Pascal, Trina and Harper. "I've handled guns before. Trained with some guards. I know how to use them. So does Wells. You guys don't know how to use guns, do you?" All three Harper, Pascal and Trina shook their heads. Clarke nodded. "So don't grab a weapon. My advice. What we don't need are people firing guns they don't know how to control. If there ARE other people down here, we might piss them off if we accidentally shoot them. Especially if there's a bunch of them. We might even start a war. So I'll keep this gun only. If you don't mind."

Something in her tone must have convinced them. Maybe it was just her holding a large gun, but Pascal, Trina and Harper all nodded without hesitation. Clarke hadn't been lying this time when she said that she and Wells had shot guns before with guards. Even though her mother had been against it, part of the culture of growing up in the upper class, children of the council, was being required to know how to use firearms.

What if some of the other people on the Ark started to rebel? What if someone tried to hold the chancellor's son hostage? What if there was an outbreak of disease and there were riots of panic? Even though Clarke's mother had been against it, as she had been against every other form of agency Clarke had, both Clarke and Wells had been taught to use guns if they ever needed to. And they needed to. Now more than ever.

Clarke looked at Fox. "You're staying?" Fox blushed for a second and nodded nervously. Clarke nodded. "Okay."

Clarke noticed Octavia glaring at her for a few seconds when Octavia spoke, "I'll come. I'd rather be out there than be under some floor again. But you're not in charge, got it?"

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes." It was probably a good thing that Octavia was coming with her. Given the other girl's incompetency, it was a safer thing for her to be coming with Clarke, Pascal, Trina and Harper while hunting for food, away from precious radios that were the Ark's only hope at survival.

In other words, it was like keeping a violent toddler from destroying everything that was valuable. She tried not to laugh. She was a glorified nanny! That was embarrassing. But that was the situation she was in, just like last time. She was the nanny and she had to keep about eighty-six or so babies from crapping all over the place. At the most she'd find nine others who were willing to help. Like Monty, Monroe, Wells and Harper. Maybe Jasper, Finn, Pascal, Trina and Fox. But the rest, Clarke couldn't trust. She just couldn't.

She looked at Wells in the eyes and said, "You keep working, okay? And if you get the feeling that you're about to be attacked from up there, get a gun." Wells looked at her like he was just trying to figure out who this person in his friend's skin was. And that really hurt Clarke. But to her relief, Wells nodded.

She turned to the ladder and started going up it, keeping the pieces of cloth in her hands and going up the ladder with them. "Everyone be careful." She called to the others. "There's rust on this ladder. Like I said, we don't have tetanus needles. So watch it."

Clarke went up first, getting to the top of the ladder, walking over on the forest floor. Her almost white blonde hair had gotten loose from its braid and fell against her back and shoulders as she went up. Pascal, Trina, Harper and Octavia came up one after the other after her. Clarke stuffed the strips of cloth into her pocket. She turned to the hole and looked down, calling to Monroe, "Hey, I don't like this being open where any person or animal might find you guys. Can we close it?"

Monroe nodded. "Yeah. That's a good idea. Do that." Clarke nodded, going to the end of the hole's lid. Pascal, Trina, Harper and Octavia went to help her. After a few seconds, they lifted the lid up and lowered it down onto the bunker's entrance. They tried to cover the slab of metal again with dirt and grass and leaves and plant life to hide it. Clarke was sure that this wouldn't be enough to hide the bunker's entrance from trained Grounder eyes. But this would have to do for now.

Their trip began. With Clarke confident now that the idiot that got speared was in the bunker, the idiot who hit on her constantly was there too, and Monty and Wells were working on the radios with Monroe overseeing them, things started to look like they might move forward. Clarke started walking, happy the trigger happy one, Octavia was here with her where she could keep the idiot toddler under her supervision. Pascal and Trina might be helpful. Harper she already knew was very helpful when she could be.

That was more than Clarke would say for a lot of the 100.

"So the river," Clarke said, thinking, "It's a bit far off. But we're in the forest. I'm sure there's something." And Clarke wasn't just assuming. She remembered where there was a whole burrow of gophers. By the river, there was that large snake. The fish in the river. There was a herd of white-tailed deer not far from here in a meadow. And a few mountain lions a few miles west of here. There were a lot of things they could eat. Then there was all the plant matter that Clarke remembered. Nuts. Non-poisonous berries. Honeycomb from the different beehives that she knew hung around the branches of some trees. Then there were all the mushrooms that Clarke knew how to identify as non-poisonous. They were going to be alright. But it would be difficult doing it without the others getting suspicious as to how she knew how to get all these things.

The least suspicious would be the white-tailed deer or the mountain lions. So she'd have to maneuver where she went, to lead these four to where those animals were without it looking strange and questionable. Clarke began to move off to the right, aware that even though they needed to go south to go to the Luwoda tribe, they still needed to get food. The white-tailed deer were east. So east it was for now.

Clarke could just feel her hackles rise when she heard Octavia snap, "And where are you going?" Clarke turned around, forcing herself to have a strong composure.

"I am going to go and find food. We lost track of where we were thanks to Jasper. But this is a dense area, heavily populated with plants and trees. And Monroe said she saw a deer. That means that there have to be more. This much plant life? It's bound to attract a lot of animals. So I'm not waiting around for those animals to come to me. I'm going to them. I don't know about the rest of you." Clarke answered snidely.

Clarke turned around and knew with the most certainty that they were going to follow her. She started walking and was unsurprised when she heard the footsteps behind her. She noticed Octavia come up next to her and Clarke had to bite her lip to stop her from letting out another groan. Dear god, did this irritation ever shut up? It was exactly like dealing with a toddler that never stopped screaming for attention. It was annoying as fuck.

How had she ever believed Octavia to be trustworthy or anything except a violent murderer?

It was kind of like realizing how stupid you were the very first time you were in love with someone abusive. Clarke was looking back at Octavia and all the other 100 and at Bellamy. And she was thinking to herself, how had she been so dumb into ever at one time loving them? Ever at one time thinking they could be trusted or were good people? It was sad. Really sad.

"Just in case you get any ideas." Octavia said darkly, "You're not better than me just because you're a princess."

"No," Clarke answered. "I'm not better than you because of that. I'm better than you because I want to save the people on the Ark and all you care about is pushing your weight around like a bully."

"What is your problem-" Octavia hissed, turning to Clarke, about to lay a hand against Clarke's chest to push her, when Clarke turned to her, smiling calmly.

"Do you really want to push me after what I did last time? Do you want to get thrown around again?" Clarke stared at Octavia and gave the brunette a cold smile. She threw all her hardened confidence into her stare. It was a stare that had been generated by a timeline of pain, lies, betrayal, bullying, murder, manipulation and all the anger she could ever offer.

This stare was a look of warning darkness. Clarke was giving Octavia this message now. You think you are going to be fierce and survive? You don't even know where to start. I'm far deadlier.

Clarke watched as Octavia paled. She could almost hear Octavia's heart pound in the other girl's chest. She was sure that Octavia was getting her message. If Octavia's slow step back was anything to go by, Octavia was intimidated by her. It was when the smirking Clarke looked into Octavia's blue eyes and saw how Octavia's eyes shifted in unease, but then saw how they darkened that Clarke realized that when it came to her infatuation with her, Clarke had not deterred Octavia even a little.

She frowned and said calmly, "My problem is that you keep on trying to get me into a pissing contest with you. But I don't give a damn about that. Like I said, Octavia, what is more important? One life or millions? If you're going to be so obsessed about the suffering of a few then you've got some shitty priorities. What I care about is making sure we live long enough to help get everyone on the Ark down here alive. But if you want to keep going over how the people on the Ark wronged you so much," Clarke deliberately sneered out the words and made them sound dramatically childlike, "Then go ahead. But if you do? You're just in the way of saving millions of lives. Hope you can live with that."

Octavia looked like Clarke had hit her again. This time Octavia didn't back down. That anger returned to her eyes. Clarke sighed. Octavia really had no self-preservation instincts, did she? There was a person in front of her with a loaded rifle. And she was willingly getting into a fight with this person? It just stood as a testament to how stupid Octavia was. Clarke had to really wonder if the Blake children had been dropped on their heads a few times as babies. She was going to assume yes, they had been. There wasn't much else to explain just how equally stupid and violent they were. It was like two sentient bombs that were aware that they were a danger to everyone else, but either didn't care or wanted to cause as much harm as they could without real reason, just the reasons they claimed they had.

But vengeance and resentment weren't reasons. They were selfishness.

"Okay, guys," Trina stepped closer to the two. "Let's take it easy, alright?"

But Octavia was having none of it. "You don't know anything about me, Griffin!" Octavia snapped, eyes on fire with her anger.

Clarke thankfully didn't scoff as she wanted to so badly just now. Clarke knew everything about Octavia. More than she'd like to know. But instead she gave a calm answer. Clarke nodded. "Let's keep it that way. And you know nothing about me. Or about Wells. But instead of seeing if we're different from the people that locked you up just for being born? You assume the worst about us just because of who we're related to. You accuse two innocent people of being guilty of crimes they didn't even commit. You do realize there's an irony to that, right? I mean, you were locked up just for being born. But instead of trying to get to know Wells and I, you get on our assess the moment you meet us just because we're related to the council. You realize that makes you as bad as my mother and Wells's dad, right? How did you feel when YOUwere locked up for a crime you didn't even commit?"

This time, Clarke's words hit Octavia effectively. Octavia actually stumbled back, like Clarke had struck her. Clarke shook her head, now grim. "That tells me enough about you. It tells me you're vindictive and petty. I did nothing to you and neither did Wells. But you think we're the same as our parents by default. Thank you, Octavia. But I think I know enough about you." Clarke nodded and swung the gun around her shoulder, feeling more satisfaction that she should have when Octavia flinched at the action. She looked at Octavia smiling coldly. "So I'm hoping there won't be anymore detours. Food now, if that's okay with you, your royal pettiness."

She started walking east, moving with long strides, uncaring now if she heard anyone behind her, which she did soon. She also heard something incredibly satisfying. Silence. Good. Finally, they were fucking quiet.

Meanwhile, back at the bunker, Wells connected some wires. He was relieved to see that there was someone else here, that someone else being Monty, who knew how to operate technology. What made him nervous was how Clarke had been acting for the past few hours. She had been acting like a completely different person the whole time. He knew there couldn't have been anything in that tranquilizer dart that Clarke had been hit with to get her on the dropship that would have made her act like that. So what was wrong? What made her like this? From the moment they got down on Earth, Clarke had been a totally different person. Not the gentle, forgiving, sweet girl he had grown up with on the Ark.

What replaced her was a callous, cold, calculating, harsh, sneering and disgusted, hardened woman.

It was like someone had dove into Clarke's body and had taken his best friend over.

That sounded like something out of a science fiction novel. Sure, it sounded cool from a distance. But for him, it was terrifying.

Wells looked at where that girl, Monroe was. She had been talking with Clarke about a lot lately. Why? Wells had never met this Monroe before they landed. How did Clarke know her? Why had Clarke chosen to speak with Monroe instead of with him, her best friend and brother?

Wells made up his mind then. He needed to speak with Monroe. He needed to know what was going on. Clarke didn't just act like this from out of nowhere. She had her reasons. He might not understand them right now, but he'd try to understand them. He turned to Monty. "Hey, Monty?" He asked quietly, remembering that this was one of the more civil kids and he probably wouldn't be yelled at just for breathing. "Do you think you can look after a few of these for a second? I need to talk to Monroe for a minute." Monty looked confused, but nodded. "Okay. Sure. Here." He opened up one of his hands for Wells to hand him some of the wires, which Wells did. When he was sure that Monty had all of the wires, Wells got up and went over to where Monroe stood, only to be stopped by Finn, who walked over to him.

"Hey, Wells?" Finn asked, brown eyes hopeful. "Can you tell me what's going on with Clarke? Did I piss her off in some way?" Wells wanted to shove Finn away. He didn't know about Clarke. But he knew that Finn was pissing him off a great deal. Hadn't he gotten it by now that Clarke wasn't interested in him?

"Finn," Wells said in aggravation, "I have no idea what's going on with Clarke right now. But I know this. If someone's making it obvious that they don't want you in their life, then respect that. Otherwise you'll be a bad person. They have rape stories about men like that." He added, seeing Finn growing pale. The poor guy had been getting a lot of verbal blows lately. But it was important for Finn to know this to make sure he didn't do anything stupid in the future. Wells was sure that Finn wouldn't do anything like that, from what he could tell, but you never knew.

Wells took advantage of Finn's shocked silence and walked past him to Monroe.

"Monroe?" He asked, getting close to her, making her turn to him, surprised. She was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and her arms dropped when Wells approached her. He looked at her with worry. "Just tell me." Wells said, voice low, "What did Clarke tell you?"

Monroe looked like she rather be confronted with anything other than this question. "Look," She mumbled, "Jaha, I don't think telling you is a good idea yet. We were just talking about where she should go to get food and that our group should stay down here. She asked me to watch everything." Wells narrowed his eyes. Why would Clarke trust Monroe to watch everything? And not him?

Wells frowned as he contemplated everything that he had seen. "Monroe?" He asked, "Do you know what's going on with Clarke? She's acting a lot different from the person I knew…well, only a month ago on the Ark before she was put in the skybox."

Wells knew that sounded crazy. But the skybox couldn't have changed Clarke so much in only a month. She was too strong for that. Something else was going on here. What? He had no clue. That was why he needed answers from Monroe. See if she knew anything. Maybe they had met at the skyboxes or something. Monroe nodded. "Yeah. I know the feeling. She hasn't been acting like herself." Wells looked startled. "You know her?" Monroe chuckled, now looking like she was worried. Like she shouldn't have said anything.

"It's complicated, Jaha." She answered, "I think maybe you should hear it from Clarke. Not from me."

Wells gave a frustrated sigh. "You don't think I know that? But she hasn't told me anything. Just is being cryptic. Do you have any idea what's wrong? She's like….she's acting like a completely different person. That doesn't just happen. I know Clarke. She's my best friend. And she doesn't just switch personalities like that. Something's going on. Do you know if anything happened to her in the skybox?"

Monroe shook her head. "I don't think so. No, it's nothing like that. It's…god, you're going to think Clarke and I are crazy if we tell you." Wells tried to ignore the "we" part of that sentence. He tried to ignore that it hurt to hear. "We" used to be him and Clarke. When had that changed?

"Look," He started, keeping his voice quiet and looking over at the others, then looking at Monroe. "I'll try to believe what you say. And you might be surprised by what I might be willing to believe. Please, Monroe. Clarke…she's my best friend. She's my family." Wells stared at her pleadingly, "Please, just tell me what's going on. I just need to know if she needs my help."

Monroe breathed in and harshly breathed out. What else was she supposed to do with that pleading face looking at her? And well, he was going to find out eventually from Clarke, right? He was going to know. And if they wanted him to work with him, then he needed to know.

"Alright." She said. "Just promise me you'll hear me out till the end before saying I'm insane, okay?"

Wells nodded, still looking skeptical. Monroe looked over at the others in the room and nodded back behind the bunker's ladder, deeper into the bunker. "The others," She said, "They can't hear, okay?" Wells nodded and followed the girl, going to the hall of the bunker as Monroe began to talk quietly.

Above ground, the trek to a wide, vast field of long, tall grass, yellow, blue and purple flowers had been a fast one for Clarke. Her feet would argue with her on that, however. It probably had been because her feet hadn't yet been used to walking at such distances like they had in the last timeline after all that time had passed. Her feet felt like they were out of shape. As was the rest of her. That probably explained the panting even though she should have been used to moving around after the last timeline. But her body wasn't as used to it as it had been before.

So she was out of breath more easily now.

She turned around, checking the others out. As predicted, Pascal, Trina, Harper and Octavia were all panting and exhausted too. Beads of sweat were dripping down their foreheads.

Clarke smirked back at Octavia. "What? Out of breath already, Octavia? I thought you could take it." She ignored the glare she got in return and started marching through the field, instantly noticing the small, pudgy quails and pheasants trying to hide themselves. She smirked. Already found some lunch for them. Not enough for the rest of the camp. But who cared? They already were going to decide who they trusted and were willing to sacrifice a whole Ark full of people. Their lives were as meaningless now as these pheasants and quails. They had chosen. Their own lives over millions. Their paths were already decided. It was just that she knew that, they didn't.

She nodded to where the birds were. "There. Some lunch for us and the others in the bunker. Some pheasants and quails." Clarke pulled off the gun from her shoulder and aimed it at the waddling birds. She knew that this was probably an infraction of some of the Grounders' laws. To kill an animal in their territory. But Clarke was done caring. The Grounders would probably go to war with them over a goddamn rock. That was just how fucked up the Trikru were. They'd probably go to war with them just for a pebble being out of place. Clarke wouldn't be even a little surprised if that were the case.

She balanced the gun under her head and aimed, squinting through the scope, pulling the trigger twice. She didn't just have required training from guards on the Ark. She had experience from actually shooting people in the previous timeline. She remembered how to do it.

The bullets flew and hit many quails and pheasants. The fat, puffed birds squawked and dropped to the grass, blood splattering out of them and pooling out over the green floor of the meadow.

She heard silence behind her and didn't need to turn around to know that she was being stared at in shock. She snorted as she tossed the gun around her shoulder to her back again. "What? Remember what I said? You have to work to get your meal. Unfortunately for you, some of that work means killing animals to get the meat. Sorry, but that's reality. Remind me, when did any of you become hippies? Before or after you committed your crimes?"

The gunshots that Clarke had released had caused a commotion. Birds were fleeing from their trees and branches. Clarke heard something next that had her gun tossed into her hands and she aimed it at the forest. The sounds of a deer's hooves swiftly beating against the ground with the desperate attempts of escaping a hunter.

She heard gasps to the side of her when she swooped around and aimed the gun, the barrel sweeping past the others and aiming into the woods. Clarke saw the deer through the scope of the gun and she fired immediately.

There was an almost silent clipping of piercing of flesh and blood shot out of the deer's neck. The deer made a shrieking noise before dropping onto the ground. Clarke moved to the brush and kneeled down to the big, antlered animal. She inspected the wound in the deer's throat. She sighed when she saw the blood pouring out of the deer's still moving mouth and the legs weakly stretching out. The deer was still alive. Poor thing. Clarke stood up and pulled her gun off her shoulder and aimed it again at the deer. This time she aimed it at its head.

She heard a couple of gasps. A quiet whimper caught her attention. "Don't…"

Clarke looked at Trina, who looked like she might cry at any second. Clarke sighed at Trina's already wet eyes. "Trina," She said, keeping her voice reasonable, "This deer is suffering. The only way to end its suffering is if it dies. And we need to eat. This is a kindness, even if you don't believe it." She didn't wait for a response and turned back to the stag, aiming the gun at the deer's head and pulled the trigger. The bullet fired into the deer's head, a small puddle of blood pooling out under the deer's head as a result, and the terror and agony in that large, black, shining ball of an eye started to fade.

She heard a few sniffles behind her and ignored them. She tossed the gun around her back and let it hang from her shoulder. She pointed to the deer and said, "There's a lot of meat for us. It's not enough to feed everyone back at camp. But it's enough for all of us to find some more food for the others. The pheasants and the quails."

Sure, what Clarke said was true. But she had no intention of bringing any large meat back for the camp. Why would she care if any of them starved? It wasn't like any of them cared about the people on the Ark. If people didn't care about other large groups, then why care about them? So no, Clarke had no intention of bringing food to the others in camp. Their starving meant nothing to her.

Clarke looked at the mortified others in the group. "Harper, Trina? Can you guys carry the pheasants and quails back to the bunker? Pascal, Octavia? I don't think I can carry the deer on my own." She looked back and gave a more or less friendly expression to both Pascal and to Octavia. "If you guys don't mind. I mean, it's going to get dark soon and there are eleven of us. We need this meat. I'd appreciate it if you guys could help me carry it to the bunker." Harper acted almost instantly and went to the pheasants and quails. Trina hesitated and went to where the quails were. The pheasants and quails were gradually picked up from the tall grass and flowers, gathered up in both young women's hands.

Trina grimaced. She looked like she would rather be holding anything else in the world except for a dead pheasant and a couple of dead quails. Harper was looking at the birds, troubled. But she held onto them tightly.

Clarke looked at Pascal and Octavia. Pascal breathed out, looking nervous and walked over. Octavia looked like she really, really didn't want to listen to Clarke but to Clarke's surprise, Octavia did as requested. She came over and went to the dead animal. Octavia leaned down and grabbed the animal's back legs and she winced, pulling the animal up by its lower torso. Pascal hoisted the deer up by the middle part of its body. Clarke walked over and leaned down to take up the upper part of the deer's body. She kept the legs over her shoulders and found a surprising amount of strength and lifted the deer up. She let out a strained breath and started moving slowly to the meadow to join Harper and Trina, Pascal and Octavia moving with her, hoisting the deer with them.

Back in the bunker, Wells had grown incredibly pale. He was trying very hard not to feel like he was going to faint. If possible, he could feel his heart beating at a speed that it shouldn't be going at. He had thought feeling your own heartbeat without putting your hand on your chest was impossible. But he could almost feel how fast his heart was going.

Everything Monroe had said to him, it was insane. It all sounded so insane. Clarke and Monroe remembering something from another life? Another timeline? And no one else remembered. Could it explain how odd Clarke had been acting? Sure. Could it explain why Clarke had gravitated to Monroe instead of him? Sure. But it was still insane. This made no sense. How was this even possible? People didn't die just to come back in another timeline. That was exactly what people called insane. That was one of the kinds of things back in the world before the bombs hit that got people locked up in a padded room or sedated. Or at least sent to a lot of therapy.

He didn't believe that this could happen at all. But weirdly…it made a little too much sense.

Clarke's draw to Monroe. Her awareness that he was not the one that had told his father about her father finding the flaw in the Ark's system, and that it had been her mother. Clarke's complete change in attitude, being callous, hard and angry and intolerant. Clarke's aversion to the rest of the 100, especially Bellamy, Finn and Octavia. Clarke's knowledge of Finn's girlfriend, Raven.

It all incredibly made disturbing sense.

And one of the more disturbing parts? How happy Clarke had been when she had seen him on the dropship. In this other timeline, Monroe claimed that he was dead. The small girl that he had seen Clarke speak with before, Charlotte, had been the one to kill him. She had stabbed him in the neck.

Clarke's joy at seeing him and her aversion to Charlotte now suddenly made sense too.

And the things Monroe were saying; a number of tribes that lived on Earth, had lived on Earth for years, a Commander that had betrayed them, people who lived inside the mountain that harvested blood and bone marrow to survive and trying to get above ground, the rest of the Ark people going crazy and electing Pike and Pike and Bellamy killing 300 of these "Grounders," risking a war and Bellamy getting Clarke killed by handing her over to Pike.

All of it was so vivid and so brutally specific that Wells had no doubt at all that Monroe was telling the truth and that she was not making any of this up.

The story had been long, brutal and disturbing. But somehow, even though he knew it made no sense, Wells knew he believed Monroe's story. It was bizarre and it was impossible. But Wells believed it. He slowly looked at the rest of the people in the bunker with them. He was grateful they had moved to the far back of the hallway. Monroe had made sure the more nosy ones like Finn and Jasper hadn't come closer.

Clarke's disgust with Finn's attentions and displeasure at Jasper's attentions made Wells believe that he shouldn't trust them too much. Monroe's story only gave way more confirmations about that. Jasper hadn't backed Clarke up in the mountain when Clarke had been afraid that the Mountain Men were too good to be true. Jasper had shot at the Grounders at the bridge and started the war between their people and the "Trikru" people, and he had become so bitter in the other timeline that he didn't help anyone.

Finn had cheated on his girlfriend on the Ark, Raven, as soon as he had come down to the ground. Monroe said that Clarke had told her in the first timeline that Finn had flirted with Octavia immediately. Then there had been Clarke and Finn's actual relationship, which Clarke had broken off as soon as she had found out about Raven. Then Finn had killed a bunch of people in a village in search of Clarke and Clarke had to kill him to save him from being tortured to death.

Wells understood all too well now, why Clarke didn't trust them. PTSD probably had a lot to do with their decisions and their behavior later in that story, but Clarke's choice not to trust them was a convincing argument for him. If Clarke didn't trust these two or other people, then Wells wouldn't trust them. She didn't trust them? He didn't trust them. Wells catalogued the names Monroe had given him in this fantastical story. Bellamy and Octavia Blake. Finn Collins. Jasper Jordan. The Commander of the twelve tribes, Lexa. Lexa's general, Anya. John Miller. Dax. John Murphy. Atom. John Mbege. All of the Mountain Men. Clarke's mother, Abby. Drew. Sterling. Myles. Connor. A few others names that Monroe had told him. Monroe had used to be one of Bellamy's little soldiers. But now she was disgusted by him because he had gotten Pike elected, got 300 people killed and had gotten Lincoln, Octavia's Grounder lover killed and eventually got Clarke killed. Lied to her and handed her over to Pike and got her killed.

Bellamy had murdered Clarke. He hadn't been the one to shoot her. But he had killed her. Just like Lexa might as well have almost killed all of his and Clarke's people herself by giving them to the Mountain Men in exchange for her own traitorous people. He had murdered her. Wells felt his blood grow cold. He would kill him. Wells would kill Bellamy. First chance he got.

Shooting his father? Weirdly, Wells could deal with that. His father was still alive, if Monroe was right, and Wells knew what his father had done to people on the Ark. Wells loved his dad, but he'd be damned if a part of him didn't feel like his father had deserved it. He was mildly ashamed of feeling that way, but he did. He was actually grateful to the older man for pulling the lever in the mountain with Clarke so that she didn't have to bear it alone. But the rest of what the older Blake sibling had done?

That so-called man had tricked Clarke into thinking she could trust him, had handcuffed her, blamed her for everything, even though he had been the one that had aided in the killing of 300 people, had almost killed everyone on the Ark, had gotten 300 people on the Ark to save oxygen and he had delivered Clarke to Pike, getting her killed. Shot. Wells never had hated anyone as much as he hated the man that was Bellamy Blake after hearing everything the older man had done.

This hatred? It felt strange. Unnatural for him. Like it was an emotion that had no business existing inside him. But it was there. Burning and hungry. The man had killed Clarke. Had gotten him killed too by influencing Charlotte, corrupting the small girl with his violence. And had gotten so many killed too.

If there was one justice by this new timeline existing, it was that he and Clarke had the chance to take their revenge.

Wells felt a small shiver. Revenge. He never remembered wanting revenge on anyone before. But the information that his best friend, his sister had been tricked, verbally abused and killed by this lying murderer was enough to hunger for the blood of Bellamy Blake. What about Charlotte and Murphy? Wells didn't know. But Murphy, from what Monroe had told him, was a piece of shit. So his dad had been floated and his mother blamed him? Big deal. What murderer didn't have some pitiful Freudian excuse?

If Freudian excuses were forgivable, then that was a frightening thing for anyone who might want to be safe from rapists and murderers. There were stories about really famous murderers on the Ark. Murderers from before the bombs hit. And famous murderers on the Ark. Their excuses were unacceptable. Those that had PTSD, sure. They were understandable. But to kill just to make yourself feel better over some old wounds-not actual mental sicknesses, that was enough to make Wells want to puke over such leniency for the Freudian excuses. Things like Murphy's excuses, things like Bellamy's excuses, he couldn't stomach them.

Octavia, Wells kind of understood. She was traumatized from her time under the floorboards. Finn was understandable.

But Wells understood Clarke's caution of all of them. When things ended so disastrously like it had in the other timeline, then Clarke's caution of everyone was to be expected.

"So," Wells chuckled, knowing that it must have sounded weird to anyone who had just been told that in another timeline, they were dead and that their best friend had been killed too, "I'm dead. And so is Clarke?" Monroe nodded, a grim look on her face. Wells sighed, feeling exhausted. He glared at Monroe. And you're not going to follow Bellamy anymore?" He asked, making sure, knowing that Wells had to be sure, even though the way Monroe had spoken about Bellamy had been fairly informative of what Monroe's feelings about the older man were. But he had to know for sure. Even if he was being paranoid, he had to know that Monroe wouldn't turn on him. They were given a second chance now. And if that was the case, then they couldn't take chances.

Monroe shook her head. "No way. I can't be loyal to him anymore. No fucking way. Not after what he did. What do you think we should do? Clarke says not to trust any Grounder except Lincoln, not to trust Bellamy or the others, and to stay away from the mountain. What do you think we should do?"

Wells nodded. "I agree. I guess I'll go back to looking after the radios." Wells grimaced. "Because I'm betting that piece of shit, Blake has almost everyone's wristbands off by now."


	4. Encountering the unexpected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So let me just say, I LOVE Niylah. So much. She doesn't have to protect Clarke, but she does. Is so caring to Clarke. Will back Clarke even when Clarke does really, really questionable stuff, like taking that bunker for only 100 people for her own people in the fourth season. I love Niylarke so much.

The trek to the bunker had been exhausting, given that three of them had been hoisting a whole deer up over the ground. Harper and Trina leaned down and dug their fingers underneath the flat, thin bunker and lifted up. The large, heavy, metal opening was heaved back and pushed all the way back to the ground. Harper and Trina went down first, joining the others. Clarke went down third and carried the deer with her, steadying herself so that she didn't fall. She heard footsteps come after her and she looked over her shoulder to see Wells come up.

She was startled by the determined look on his face.

"Got, got it," Wells said, helping pull down the deer with him along the metal stairs. He kept the deer on his back, moving down the stairs to the floor of the bunker. He carried the animal with Clarke, Pascal and Octavia down. They reached the floor with the others and lowered the deer to the bunker floor. They heard Jasper gasp in shock.

"Holy shit!" Jasper said, shocked. "That's a deer! That's a deer!"

"Thank you, Jasper." Clarke said quietly, looking down at the dead animal. "Very observant of you." She said in a calm voice when Harper and Trina dropped their bounty on the deer. The quails and pheasants were dropped down on the deer's body. Plenty of meat.

"Okay, awesome." Clarke said. "I'm going to get a fire started. Keep this stuff guarded until the fire is ready." Clarke walked to the ladder.

"Where are you going?" Octavia asked.

Clarke turned and glared at her. "I JUST told you. I'm going to start a fire. You're not very good at listening, are you?" She gestured with both her arms, ignoring Octavia's indignant look. "I don't think we want a fire in here. It will suck up the oxygen and burn things we might need." She looked at Wells. "How are you and Monty on the radios?"

Wells smiled. "We've been doing good. Monty did most of the work."

"Yeah," Finn said, "When you weren't off secretly talking with Zoe."

"It's 'Monroe.'" The braided girl snapped at Finn, making the brown-haired boy jump at her exclamation. Clarke eyed this display, suspicious. What did Finn mean by Wells talking with Monroe? Talking about what? She looked at Monroe questioningly. Monroe nodded up the stairs of the ladder in meaning. Clarke understood what Monroe meant. I'll tell you in a second.

Clarke nodded. "Look, I'll get a fire started. We need to cook this stuff, right? And Monroe? We need that knife. For skinning the deer we need to take all the feathers out of the birds."

She ignored the small groans of "Eww" she got as a result. She went to the ladder's stairs and went up them. She looked back when she heard metal stepping following her. Monroe was in tow. Wells soon was too. Clarke frowned, wondering what Wells was going to talk about. Maybe he was going to help with gathering stuff for the fire. They reached the top of the bunker and the three of them stood there. Clarke ignored Octavia's groaning below. "Seriously? We just got down here."

Clarke looked at Wells and Monroe, nodding to the middle of the field, away from the hole of the bunker. The three of them got over to the middle of the field and Clarke asked Wells gently, "What was Finn talking about before?" Wells looked at her, alarmed. Clarke sighed, "I mean, he said that you and Monroe were talking." She looked at Monroe. "About what?"

Monroe looked uncomfortable at this question. "I told him, Clarke." She answered awkwardly. "Everything I could. He wasn't going to let it go. So I told him." Clarke stared at Monroe, shocked, eyes bulging practically. Monroe shifted around and Clarke slowly turned to Wells, waiting for his reaction.

To her growing surprise, Wells showed no signs of disbelief. He only smiled sadly. "So I guess we're both dead in the other timeline, huh?" He said grimly. "Isn't that just how justice works in the real world? We try to do everything right and get killed for it. And a thug that thinks his resentment excuses him from everything is the one that survives."

Clarke shivered. Had Wells really accepted this insanity so easily? She wasn't sure she could really believe it. But it looked like he had accepted it. And even more than that, now he was making jokes. Crude jokes. Clarke eyed Wells. "You believe us?"

Wells nodded. "Yeah. It makes more sense than I'd like. You not trusting any of the 100. Especially Bellamy and his sister. You acting so different. You knowing where the bunker was. It makes a lot of sense." His face became sorrowful. "So," He said quietly, "Bellamy, the 100, the Grounders and that Commander, Lexa are the reasons why you've changed so much?"

The question was sad and pained and Clarke winced as she nodded. "Yeah. If you want to be specific and point fingers. Yes. Not to mention the Mountain Men. So yes, they're why."

Clarke looked over at the bunker, seeing Octavia's head begin to emerge from the bunker and spoke softly to the other two. "Every decision we make has to be like a bullet. Each decision we make, has to count." Clarke shot another cautious glance at Octavia and said softly to Wells and Monroe again, "Don't trust the Grounders, except for Lincoln. Don't trust any of the 100. Especially Murphy and Charlotte. And don't trust Bellamy under any circumstance. Don't trust any Mountain Man. Now we need to stop talking about this. Octavia's coming."

Monroe and Wells turned their heads at where Octavia was coming out of the hole and heading over to them, jumping off the top of the ladder and walking along the forest floor.

"What are you three talking about?" Octavia asked, her voice loud and Clarke was sure, deliberately obnoxious. "Just trying to find the right sticks and leaves for burning." Clarke answered easily. "And we have to make a small circle to make sure the fire doesn't spread to the woods. Don't want to kill off half the animals in the forest by creating a mass fire." That actually was a fairly troubling thought. Forest fires were a real hazard. It was a good thing Clarke had knowledge of how to keep small makeshift fires at bay.

Clarke added before anyone could say anything, "Want to help me find some stones to use as a barricade from the flames?" She looked at Octavia. She didn't trust Octavia. Not even a little bit. But this was strategic. She had to make it appear like she was trying to get along with the other girl.

Octavia looked understandably perplexed by the offer, but eventually nodded. "And I thought you were too good for my help."

Clarke bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from snapping at the younger. "When did I give you that impression? I just don't like that you hate everyone on the Ark for something most of them weren't guilty for. And if I felt that way, I wouldn't have asked you this in the first place. Or asked you to help with the deer."

Wells added, "What can we do to help?"

Clarke looked at Wells and said, "You are one of our tech people. Go back and help Monty. Make sure we can contact the Ark. Tell them what's going on."

Wells nodded. "Don't worry, I know." We went past Octavia who glared at him and went to the bunker, turning and going down the ladder.

Clarke looked at Monroe. "Do you think you could help gather sticks and leaves to burn?" Monroe nodded.

Clarke started moving to where she found a few small, but broad and bulky stones, picking them up off the ground. She put one after the other in her pockets. She looked over at Octavia who was a few feet away and out of earshot.

Clarke leaned down to Monroe who was picking up sticks. "So," Clarke began, "What is Wells going to tell them up on the Ark?"

Monroe shrugged. "I guess everything that we know without being called crazy. He's gonna tell them that we're alive and that Earth is habitable. And that Bellamy is taking off wristbands and so they shouldn't believe that we're all dying. And that they can come down. It's safe to come down."

Clarke chuckled and smirked at Monroe. "Oh, Monroe," she said, "Even if we tell everyone on the Ark what's happening with Bellamy and the 100, we both know it's not safe down here. There are still all the Grounders and the Mountain Men to worry about."

Monroe frowned, looking grim. "You're right. Unfortunately." Now that Monroe thought about it, Clarke usually was right. If only they had listened to her more in the previous timeline, so much that had happened disastrously, wouldn't have happened. But they hadn't. And the shattered pieces all fell where they may.

Monroe supposed that that was what karma was. All your mistakes coming back to bite you in the ass.

At least now they had a new chance. They better not fuck it up.

In the bunker, the fluorescent lights weren't as warm as Wells would have liked it as he and Monty worked the controls and bolts and wires of the control panels. There were three speakers attached the panels, a bunch of switches that operated the speakers and sent the messages through to the other end. Monty pointed out a very not small flaw in their plan. They'd need a signature frequency to pinpoint where they wanted to contact a person. So if they wanted to contact the Ark, they'd need a frequency from one of their wristbands. Meaning one of them would have to sacrifice their wristbands and risk the Ark thinking one of them was dead.

Wells thought about offering, but decided he wanted to run it by Clarke and Monroe first. If every decision they made mattered, if every decision they made affected them, then he couldn't make any of those decisions on his own. He had to speak to the other only two who knew what he knew first.

When Jasper pointed out that he only ever had Monty and Monty's mom as company on the Ark, he said he'd be willing to do it. Monty had pointed out that then his mom would think that Jasper was dead. That quickly shut Jasper up. Wells knew Finn wouldn't do it because of Raven. Pascal, Trina, Harper and Fox were a mystery for Wells when it came to possible loved ones on the Ark.

Pascal offered, which brought Wells the information from Trina that if he did it, his parents would think he was dead. That was why she wasn't taking her wristband off either. Her father would be alone.

That left Harper and Fox. Fox's parents were still on the Ark. But Harper was an orphan. Wells asked her not to take the wristband off until they talked to the other three about it first. Finn, much to Wells's annoyance volunteered immediately and went up the ladder. Wells was tempted to run after him. But he reminded himself that Clarke had way more experience with this place and with Finn than he did. And she had a gun with her. He knew that she could take care of himself. It was still hard to ignore that strong brotherly protective instinct. Knowing that Finn had lied to Clarke, broke her heart was enough to make him want to race after Finn and punch him.

Wells ignored the need to run after Finn. It hurt that he had failed Clarke. He hadn't been there for her. A kid years younger than him had killed him. And Clarke had been left with her burdens alone. With people that offered no help, save for Monty and sometimes Octavia, Finn and Monroe and this Raven that eventually would come down.

Not this time. He'd stay alive long enough to stay and fight by his sister's side and would kill anyone that threatened his sister again.

Above the bunker, Finn almost crashed into Clarke and Monroe when he ran out, making Clarke's grip on the gun tighten. "Finn?" She asked, staring at him coldly. "What the hell is it?" She admitted that she never thought she'd use that vulgar remarks that she had been using. But since they were getting a do over, why not try something new? It wasn't like being polite had served her much in the timeline before now, right? Finn shrugged. "Nothing. But Monty and Wells got everything hooked up. But we need a signature frequency to connect with the Ark. We don't have that, we won't be able to communicate with them. So we need a wristband to be taken off."

Clarke sighed in realization, remembering from last time that Finn was right. "And that risks people thinking we're dead." Monroe looked at her. "Clarke, I don't have anyone back on the Ark. Everyone I was close with is down here. My mom is dead and my dad's a son of a bitch that I haven't seen in years. Sterling got arrested before I was. And Roma got arrested to get away from her stalker. So I have no one that cares about me there. I'll take mine off."

Clarke was startled at this suggestion. But it made sense. Monroe had had her wristband taken off early in the first timeline. So this probably wouldn't make much of a difference. She felt a slight hit of sadness, hearing that Monroe had been so alone for so long. It actually made a lot of sense then why she would have clung to Bellamy's shitty decisions. Because it had likely felt like she had belonged.

Octavia's voice caught their attention as she said flippantly, "I'll take mine off." They looked at her and she shrugged, hands on her hips. Her jacket was off and her shoulders were bare. If the sun were still up, her slight tan that had already formed would be obvious. "There's no one that gives a shit about me on the Ark. They wanted to float me as soon as they found out about me. And my only family is on Earth with me. I've got nothing to lose by taking my wristband off."

Clarke figured she shouldn't have been surprised by this. Of all people to decide that they had nothing to lose by the Ark thinking they were dead? Bellamy and Octavia fit the bill. And as Octavia said, her only family was on Earth with her. So there was no risk of anyone who cared about her thinking she was dead.

Since Clarke admitted to herself that she wasn't sure she even cared that much about Octavia anymore, she decided mentally to take up on the younger girl's offer. "So you'll take it off?" Clarke made sure her voice was smooth and calm. "I know that's asking a lot."

Octavia shook her head. "Not really. Got nothing to lose. So anyone know how to take it off? Jaha? Griffin?"

Wells looked mildly offended. "Just because I'm Thelonius Jaha's son, doesn't mean that I know how those wristbands work or how to take them off."

Clarke somehow did NOT roll her eyes again. "I'll do it for you. It's not hard to guess how to take it off." She smirked, thinking about the moronic thugs back at the dropship who were easily and recklessly taking the wristbands off. "I'm guessing even a bunch of violent thugs could take it off." She ignored the questioning look Octavia gave her as Clarke reached her hand out, gesturing for Octavia to give her the hand with the wristband

Octavia looked at Clarke, uneasily, but Clarke thought about what Monroe had told her. Octavia had the hots for her? Maybe in the other timeline. But what about now? Clarke thought about the times that Octavia had tried to get her attention, realizing that they weren't that different from Finn or Jasper's efforts. Just using aggression instead of puppy dog charms. Not that it worked any better. She was just as annoying as the other two. Actually, she was even more annoying.

Octavia handed Clarke her arm, and Clarke did not miss how the younger seemed to deliberately brush her fingers across Clarke's wrist as she did. Clarke tried not to snort and grasped Octavia's wristband, ignoring how the younger stared at her. She turned Octavia's wrist and called to Monroe, "Hey, Monroe, can I have your knife for a second?"

"Knife?" Octavia asked, sounding nervous.

"Calm down." Clarke said coldly. "I need to get the wristband off. There's a way to get it off. But it needs a knife." She turned back to Octavia. "Unless a knife makes you scared?" Clarke was laying in a low blow, but she didn't care. Trying to get someone to do something by goading them into thinking you thought they were scared was a cheap shot, but they needed a wristband. And if Octavia was the most willing, then she'd take it.

Monroe pulled out her switchblade and started walking over. She flipped up the knife and handed it, handle first to Clarke. Clarke took it and Monroe let go of the blade. Clarke turned her head back to the wristband, bringing the knife to the silver cuff. "Ready, Octavia?" Clarke asked, looking at the brunette's face in the dark. Octavia sighed and forced her nod. Clarke saw the hardness of Octavia's bright blue eyes and she nodded. She slipped the blade under the smooth, rectangular panel of the wristband, pushing up and moving the blade around, knowing that the blade was just scratching against Octavia's skin. She heard Octavia's small intakes of breath, but ignored them. She knew Octavia would suck it up until it was over. And she didn't care about Octavia's discomfort.

She heard a clicking and the metal bands around Octavia's wrists snapped open. Clarke grabbed the wristband by the top and pulled it off Octavia's arm, turning to Monroe and handing the knife back to the other girl. She turned to Wells, handing it to him. "Please give this to Monty. Start working on the radios and making a connection. Monroe, Octavia and I will keep working on the fire. Thanks."

Wells looked at Clarke worriedly. But he nodded.

He took the wristband and went back to the bunker, climbing down.

Clarke let go of Octavia's hand and this time, she was sure she caught the dismay in the younger's eyes. Clarke ignored that and said calmly, "Thank you, Octavia. Even if you think you have nothing to lose by doing it. Thank you."

Octavia nodded and Clarke went back to the bundles of sticks, leaves and shrubs on the ground to search for burnable things. As she did, Clarke knew the chances were high, if not inevitable that they were being watched already. She made sure she listened closely, keeping her head down. The forest was teeming with sounds. Crickets. Grasshoppers. Birds chirping. She was sure she even heard a few owls and some frogs going off. But underneath that, Clarke's trained ears, even now, given the experience she had been endowed with in the previous timeline, could hear something beneath all that racket.

Footsteps. Almost muffled footsteps.

Clarke's tried not to be too obviously tense. They were being watched. By someone. Who? Clarke didn't know. But she stayed silent and stayed poised, lowered, picking up sticks, ignoring how the hair on the back of her neck was raising up. One of Lexa's scum spies was watching them. The identity of who they were, she didn't know, but one of Lexa's spies. Clarke slowly went over to Monroe and leaned over to her, whispering to her, "Don't panic and don't make any noise. Don't look around. I think we're being watched by Grounders. Or a Grounder." She felt Monroe tense, but a hiss from Clarke got Monroe to stop from turning around. It was an unreasonable thing for Clarke to ask Monroe to do. To make her aware that their enemies were watching, but not to make it known that they knew.

Asking to keep a lid on the things they knew was easier said than done, but they didn't have a choice, they had to keep quiet about all they knew. Clarke could feel Monroe's panic in the dark. "What do we do?" The braided girl whispered to her the question.

Clarke said in an even quieter voice, "Nothing now. We just make a fire and cook dinner. We have guns. And we haven't done anything severe yet. So just as long as we don't act threatening, they should leave us alone."

Monroe swallowed next to Clarke. "You don't actually believe that, do you?"

Clarke shook her head, frowning. "No. But we can't do anything that will attract attention. Just keep walking like you're gathering things for the fire, and pretend I never told you this."

Monroe nodded and Clarke could feel the nervousness from the other girl.

Monroe very obviously didn't like this at all and Clarke couldn't blame her. She hated this too. But this was what they were left with. Lexa couldn't be trusted. She had proven that. She and Anya had abandoned them at the mountain for their own ends. And even when Lexa had made that arrangement with Clarke to make the Sky People her thirteenth tribe, Clarke had known that she couldn't trust Lexa. She had known that she just couldn't. Even though she had become the ambassador for the Sky People, Clarke had never forgiven Lexa or Anya and she had never trusted either of the other women. It was a grudge that lasted till this timeline. And when Lexa had been ready to wipe her people out solely for the actions of one group of the Sky People, an action that had been caused by Pike, Bellamy and a few others, not by all the Sky People, Clarke knew that Lexa had not changed. Lexa would always be a murderous liar and cheat. Lexa was incapable of doing the right thing even if she had a fully written instruction manual.

The Grounders, they heard that even a couple of their people died? And they instantly were calling for the massacre of an entire culture. Clarke was sure that in a few centuries when dictionaries started to become recreated, under the word "genocide," all someone would have to do was look up "Trikru." But then, that would mean that the Grounders would have to take responsibility, wouldn't it? And the Grounders weren't capable of that. They were right about everything and if anyone told them otherwise then that person was considered weak. To the Grounders, anything that didn't fit in with their way of thinking was weak and not natural and should be destroyed.

Clarke felt a cruel smile on her face. She never remembered hating the Grounders as much as she did now. Had the different timelines intensified her emotions? Or was this new change in perspective just telling her what should have been obvious from the beginning? That the Grounders, like most of the 100, were beyond being worthy of any kind of sympathy or compassion or redemption even?

Nine times out of ten, all of these people, Bellamy and Lexa included made their own beds. Maybe it was time they started lying in those beds.

It just happened that when someone told them that they had to lie in the beds they made, they would get uptight and claim that was wrong. Because how dare anyone tell them that they weren't in the right?

Monroe said to Clarke, "Something funny, Griffin?"

Clarke chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, Monroe." She said quietly. "Something's really funny. The Grounders. They're hilarious. They're so funny."

Monroe gave her a strange look and Clarke couldn't blame her. That statement was probably unexpected. Clarke offered, still smirking, her voice quiet, "They think they're right about everything. And when anyone questions them, they freak out. But when someone so much as puts a toe out of line, they start massacring without question. They're so funny because they think they're right about everything. But they're nothing but savages."

Monroe nodded. "Yeah. I feel the same way. About the Trikru. I know there are other tribes." Clarke glanced at Monroe in the dark. She couldn't help but feel some relief at what Monroe said. So Monroe was only condemning all Trikru, but not the rest of the tribes? Good. That was a relief. Because eventually they'd need to get to the Shallow Valley people. And hatred of all tribes might interfere big time with forming any kind of peaceful communication with the Shallow Valley people and getting their boats to go off to South America.

Clarke nodded. "Yeah. I'm sure there are some good tribes. Just not the one that owns this land. We can't trust any Trikru except for Lincoln. Understand?" Monroe gave the thumbs up. Clarke didn't want to think about her, but her exclusion of trusting any Trikru except for Lincoln brought on unwelcomed and painful thoughts of Niylah.

Niylah, the trader and the one of the kindest Grounder women Clarke had ever met.

It was true that Niylah had been hiding her because she had been Wanheda. But with Niylah, Clarke had felt nothing but safe. She had suffered nightmares and plenty of self-hatred, but with Niylah, that all seemed to eventually evaporate. Even if it was temporary. She would never stop wishing to see Niylah again for that. At least a part of her would always hope to see her again. But that wasn't a choice for her. Not now. She wasn't Wanheda yet. She hadn't killed anyone in the mountain. And as far as Clarke was concerned, she was staying as far away from that place as she could and keeping everyone else as far away from it as she could.

So now? Niylah had no reason to help or protect her.

But Clarke knew where Niylah's trading post was. The timelines had changed, but the locations hadn't. Clarke was sure of that. She wanted to go to that trading post badly. But knew she couldn't. She stepped into that trading post and she'd be greeted with only blank curiosity and at worst, suspicion. Going to Niylah was not an option.

But she was going to keep her people away from Niylah's trading post, if only to protect Niylah and her father.

She thought long and hard about all the things that had happened in the previous timeline. No, none of the 100 had gotten close to Niylah's trading post before that shit happened at the mountain. Meaning that Niylah and her father wouldn't be in danger anytime soon from her group.

So they could focus on making a fire and cooking now. The three of them made a stone circle, moved away all the perishable objects, made a stick bundle in the form of a triangle that Clarke made and tied together at the ends at the top. Clarke then took a long, thin stick and pressed it against a small piece of bark, a handful of leaves under the stick and Clarke rolled the stick between her hands, the tip against the leaves and wood. She kept rolling the stick, ignoring Octavia's stare and Monroe waiting for the small flames.

Smoke started to leave the wood and the leaves on top of it and Clarke blew on the wood, watching as small, orange flames began to flicker up. She picked up the wood with the leaves burning on it and put it into the bottom of the stick bundle within the stone circle. The flames started consuming the rest of the wood and the flames grew taller, eating at some of the sticks. All three young women around the circle were in the fire's light now. Octavia turned to Clarke, awed. "How did you know how to do that?" Octavia asked the older girl.

Clarke answered without facing Octavia. "Earth skills. You need to know how to make a fire in case you don't have matches or a lighter on you."

That wasn't a lie. That was the most basic set of skills in Earth skills class. Doing it first hand took actual experience. Experience which Clarke had earned out in the wild after she had left her people after the mountain, traumatized.

Octavia said quietly and Clarke didn't miss the huskiness in the younger's breath, "You need to teach me some of that sometime." Clarke almost rolled her eyes yet again. God, could Octavia be any more obvious? Even if being subtly wasn't Octavia's style, being this "in your face" about her infatuation wasn't attractive. But Clarke was sure that aside from physical traits, there wasn't much attractiveness about Octavia at all. She was a boorish, aggressive savage that didn't understand the first thing about keeping peace. And even when it came to doing what you had to do, like leaving people in Ton DC, Octavia couldn't let go of her arrogance. There was nothing attractive about Octavia at all, except for her face and body.

But Clarke ignored that thought and looked at Monroe. "We should probably start skinning the deer and plucking the feathers of the birds so we can cook them." Monroe nodded and went off to the bunker, going down the ladder.

Clarke felt an intense stare on her from her side and she smirked. "Octavia, what is it?"

Octavia practically growled out, "I don't get it. What's so special about you that one of my own people trusts you more then me or Finn or Jasper or Monty?"

"Your own people?" Clarke echoed. "How is Monroe your own people? Just because she's lower class like you? Just because she comes from the same class as you doesn't mean that she has anything in common with you or that she is automatically one of your people. People who aren't in the same class as the other can have a lot in common."

Clarke tried to ignore the aching reminder of what Bellamy had done. Had he trusted one of the people he saw as one of his own, Pike? Yes. But when he had betrayed her and blamed her for everything, he had looked like had more in common with Thelonius Jaha than with Pike.

Using a scapegoat so he didn't have to take responsibility.

Clarke's father had been Thelonius Jaha's scapegoat. And she had been Bellamy Blake's scapegoat. She and her father had been victims where the real murderers got to throw all their problems on them in blame.

When Clarke had been handcuffed and blamed for all the deaths that had happened in the other timeline by none other than Bellamy Blake, the man she had at one time trusted with her life, she had seen that he was no different from Thelonius Jaha or Cage Wallace. And he had gotten her killed just like her mother and Jaha had gotten her father killed.

What had been the point of Clarke trusting Bellamy? Or Octavia? Just because he and Octavia were of the same class as Monroe, Jasper, Monty, Finn, Fox, Harper, Pascal and Trina, didn't mean either of them were to be trusted.

The price of knowledge was pain and distrust, apparently.

Her mother, Thelonius Jaha, the Mountain Men, Lexa, Anya, Gustus, Indra, Jasper too probably, Miller, Bellamy, Octavia, and anyone who was going to side with Bellamy, none of them could be trusted. Not a fraction. Anxiety, pain, anger and frustration all swirled around in a thick and clawing bulge in Clarke's throat. She forced herself to look calm in front of Octavia. She didn't want the younger girl to ask any pesky questions. How exactly were they supposed to pull anything off? With not being able to trust really anyone, how were they supposed to do anything they needed to protect the people on the Ark?

Clarke's focus was broken when she saw Monroe and Wells come up out of the bunker, carrying the pheasants and quails. "Boy," Monroe said, chuckling, "You really nailed these birds, Griffin." Monroe smirked.

Clarke laughed a small laugh, glad for the distraction. "Well, we needed food. I don't know about you, but I'd prefer it if my food didn't squawk while we're cooking it." Monroe laughed back, smiling. She brought the birds over with Wells and they dropped them on the ground next to the fire.

"So how do we start plucking these things?" Monroe asked, looking at the other three. "By hand?"

"Yeah," Clarke said, "I know none of us want to do that. Because yuck. But I don't want to eat a bunch of birds with feathers. So yeah, plucking is what we're going to have to do."

Monroe nodded, grimacing. "Great." Clarke leaned down, grabbing at a pheasant and started to pluck away at it, feather by feather. She heard a few small groans, but Wells and Monroe soon were helping in plucking the different birds. Before long, the deer was brought up by Pascal, Finn, Harper and Jasper.

Jasper's eyes were practically bugging out of their sockets. "My god!" He yelled. "This thing weighs a ton!"

Clarke snorted. "I can safely say that's not true. But I'm sure it feels like that. Just bring it over here and we can get to taking the fur off it."

"You mean skin it?" Monroe asked, snorting.

Clarke eyed the other girl, "I was hoping to avoid that word. But yes. Essentially." The deer was lugged over and dropped down on the ground next to them. When it was, Monroe looked uneasily at it and Clarke sighed, offering the pheasant. "We can trade. You can take the pheasant and pluck it. I'll take the knife and skin the deer if you want."

Monroe hesitated, but shook her head. "No." Monroe frowned, thinking. If she was really going to do this, she would really have to do it. But she was okay with that. If she was going to start acting like she could take responsibility, then she was going to start acting like it. She would do anything it took to be a productive member of this group. If that involved something disgusting like skinning a deer, then she'd do it.

"I'll do it." Monroe said. "Can't be that hard, right?"

Monroe moved over to the deer, ignoring the shocked looks she was getting and kneeled down in front of the animal. She took the knife and grabbed some of the deer's skin, pinching it, pulling it up and brought the slim blade to the deer's flesh. She was provided light from the fire, so she didn't worry about the blade nicking her fingers. She sliced the blade beneath the flesh, cutting away the skin and the fur, blood trickling out instantly onto her hands.

She frowned, disgusted, but resumed her task. She had seen Lincoln do this in the other timeline when Clarke was gone. When Lincoln hunted and brought back prey, he'd show them how to skin the prey. She didn't know how to do it well, but she knew it better than Wells, Octavia, Finn or Jasper did. And Clarke shouldn't have to deal with the responsibility alone. She cut away the fur and the skin, getting many disgusted noises from the others, save for Clarke. Layers of fur and skin were thrown back against the grass, blood staining every inch of that flesh and fur and the patches of grass around them. The deer's head, throat, chest, stomach, legs and buttocks were bare of their fur and skin, revealing the meat and sickening blue, long veins.

All of it was caked in bright red blood that kept leaking out into the grassy soil.

Monroe frowned. She should have been sickened by this. But almost two years of hunting like this since dropping down on Earth in the dropship in the previous timeline had desensitized her to any gross feelings she might have about butchering. The four disgusted gasps and groans behind her were telling her a different story. It was to be expected. They didn't have the experience that she and Clarke had. So plenty of disgust was to be predicted. The skinning of the deer had taken up to possibly fifteen to twenty-five minutes. She was surprised. She thought it would take her longer. Lincoln and other Grounders, she had seen them able to skin an animal like a deer or an actual deer in under fifteen minutes. Even under ten. She'd have thought that her skinning of the deer would at least take forty minutes.

All she had to do was skin away the last of the deer's pelt under where it lay. Its other side. With blood soaked hands, Monroe grabbed the ankle of the deer's left back leg, starting to skin away the flesh and fur at that end.

She felt Clarke's eyes staring into her back. She wondered if Clarke had thought she was squeamish. If Clarke was as startled as the others. She didn't make any noise like the others did, but Monroe had to wonder. She and Clarke had never interacted much. They always were there for each other when they needed each other. Monroe tried to be there for those of the 100 that were in need, since she had no one else, and that included Clarke. And Clarke always looked out for her and the rest of the 100. But Monroe wondered if Clarke considered her weak. Like Fox, Miller or Jasper for always needing help back in the other timeline. If that was why was staring at her now like she couldn't believe she was doing this.

When Roma had died because of a Grounder attack, Monroe had almost punched Bellamy in the nose for being there and not protecting her. She had drank herself to sleep that night, crying over her dead friend. So after that? Monroe had been determined to never let one of her people down ever again. A promise that she had broken when she had been stunned into doing nothing when Bellamy had brought a tricked Clarke to Pike and had gotten her killed.

Never again. Monroe would never let someone she loved down again. If she had to protect Clarke to her dying day to keep someone like Bellamy from hurting them ever again with his false promises, then she'd do it.

This timeline would be different. Monroe sure as hell would fight to make it different.

Clarke watched Monroe, a little stunned. She knew what Monroe had said, but it was still kind of a shock. Monroe was really serious about going fully into this dedicated and doing what ever it took? She was pulling off a good show of it. Clarke hoped she could trust the other young woman. Clarke stepped back a little, the heat of the fire starting to become overwhelming. As soon as she got closer to the forest's edge, she froze when she heard a cracking noise behind her that had nothing to do with the flickering fire in front of her.

That Grounder, or one of the Grounders that was watching them, was getting closer to their fire.

Her jaw tightened. Was this more than an investigation? Were they not just being spied on? Were they about to be attacked? Clarke took her gun in her right hand, let it dangle, but slid her hand up to take the safety off. Octavia heard the clicking noise, turning her head to Clarke. "Did you just take the safety off?" She asked Clarke.

Clarke nodded. "Be careful. Don't make a move. We're being watched."

She glanced at Octavia, seeing the brunette freeze up and whirl around, looking all over the forest, predictably. What part of don't move and don't look around did Octavia not understand? Clarke restrained a groan. She hissed quietly, "What did I just say? I said don't move. Like I've been saying, we might not be the only people down here. We're arrogant if we think that. Just stay still. Don't make any loud noises. Don't tell the others or they'll freak out. Don't go near the forest. Don't give the people that are down here reasons to attack us."

Not that the Grounders ever needed reasons. They always made up those reasons. It didn't matter if it was a poisonous chalice to trick their leader into thinking that someone else had done it, or tricking a bunch of people to their deaths even if the Sky People had already cured the Reapers, only to leave them to the Mountain Men.

The Grounders needed no reason. They just did what they wanted and claimed that no one else should have a say. The problem was that the sky people were on the Grounders' land. Even if they did nothing, the Grounders could attack and if any of them got injured or got killed in an act of self-defense, they had the means they needed to go to the Commander and demand these "Sky Peoples" deaths. The Grounders knew nothing of justice and if they had to instigate a fight to concoct a way of getting the Commander to turn in their favor, they'd do it. That was just the thing they'd do.

"Don't make any moves, Octavia." Clarke said quietly, "If there are other people here, then we're on their land. So if there's anyone else, don't give them an excuse to attack." Octavia didn't move from her stance, but she did turn around and look deeper into the forest.

"Hey," The brunette said, "Someone's coming from the forest. And…I don't think it's one of our guys."

Clarke's heart raced. A Grounder wouldn't be seen by one of their untrained eyes unless the Grounders wanted to be seen. And if Octavia thought it wasn't one of the 100, then who-? With her mind jumping to the Mountain Men, Clarke whirled around, cupping her rifle, eyes locking on an approaching figure, cloaked in shadows, just beginning to come into the fire's light. Clarke kept her gun close and heard Monroe's movements stop. She heard Monroe get up and the others walk closer. She squinted into the darkness. The figure was tall, and Clarke could make out long hair in braids.

She made out the outline of furs covering the person's body, revealing this person to be a Grounder, not a Mountain Man. The lack of bulky suit was a giveaway, naturally, but the fur was informative that it was a Grounder and not one of the 100.

Clarke made out an ample bosom and wide hips. It was only when the fire's light just touched this person that Clarke's heart stopped. She knew who this woman was.

The soft, kind smile given to them was enough for Clarke to shiver, feeling like she had seen a ghost. Clarke, before she could prevent it, whispered the woman's name. "Niylah."

Clarke hadn't meant to say that name out loud, but she had said it. It was practically a whisper, but she was sure that Niylah's trained ears had picked it up. The tall woman eyed Clarke for a second, raising an eyebrow before looking around at the others.

Octavia, as to be expected, was the first to speak. "Whoa. Who the hell are you?"

"Grounder." Monroe answered without any explanation given.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Clarke said. She couldn't let the others know she knew this woman. She had already screwed up by saying this woman's name and hoped to god that none of the others heard it. "If you speak any language except the one I'm speaking, then I'm sorry, I won't be able to understand you." Clarke knew that Niylah spoke gonesleng (English), but she couldn't let anyone know that she knew that.

Niylah cocked her head and smiled. "If you insist." She spoke in a smooth tone, speaking gonadesleng. "My name is Niylah. Of the Trikru tribe. You're from that ship that landed miles from here. Aren't you?"

Clarke tensed, but nodded. She could practically feel the shocked looks that the others were giving each other over a Grounder speaking their language. Clarke wanted to stay calm. She needed to stay calm. But it was kind of hard when the timeline was suddenly fast forwarded violently like this. She hadn't met Niylah this early. But she knew that it was her fault. She had known that Niylah's trading post was close to here. She had come closer to it with the intention of getting away from the river where Jasper had been hit by that spear and closer to the bunker with the radios. It just happened that the bunker was closer to Niylah's post.

She hadn't counted on this, but she should have.

Niylah smiled still at them. "You are from the sky, aren't you? If you are in need of any trading, if there's anything that you want in exchange for furs, blades, maps, Skai people, I could help you."

Clarke stared at the older woman. This came out of nowhere. Niylah had always been there for her when she had needed. So it shouldn't have been a surprise to hear Niylah say those words, but it was. Niylah didn't even know them, and she was willing to go out of her way to help all of them? Clarke could safely say that she didn't understand. "You're helping us?" Octavia asked, and for the first time ever, Clarke agreed with her confusion.

Niylah turned to them. She answered, "My people will see you as threats just for being on their land. I would not wish for any of my people to harm any of yours. So I would like it if we could avoid a war. So I would like to give aid if I you would allow me to."

Clarke couldn't find the words even though she wanted to throw out more than a thousand. What the hell? Niylah had just appeared out of nowhere for no reason and was offering them help, and claimed that it was to stop a war. And she was right in front of the people that she was trying to hide everything from, save for Wells and Monroe. Clarke knew she needed to gain some control of the situation now, or else she would be lost on what to do. She would have no grasp on the situation even a tiny bit. She spoke quickly and choosing her words carefully. "You say that you don't want your people to go to war with ours. But won't your people be displeased when they learn that you've helped people who are not of their own people?"

Niylah did not look affected by this possibility. She kept a kind smile on her face as she looked at Clarke. "I don't doubt that. But if I have to choose between standing by and doing nothing while a war could break out between our people or try to keep people from destroying each other, then I'll try to stop a war from breaking out and our people from destroying each other." Clarke's mouth dropped, shocked. This was exactly the type of thing she would have loved to hear in the other timeline. And she knew she should have loved to hear it now. But she couldn't even believe it enough to be grateful for Niylah saying it. She just couldn't believe anyone was decent anymore. It was an impossible thing to believe in now. Human kindness. Human compassion. It was an foreign thing to Clarke now after everything and being in this new timeline.

Niylah looked at them narrowly. "You are not of the mountain, are you?"

"The mountain?" Octavia answered back with confusion.

Clarke tensed, thinking about the Mountain Men. "We don't know what you mean by that." Clarke lied. "What mountain? What are you talking about?" Clarke noticed Wells and Monroe get closer to her on her right side, and saw Wells balling up his hands into fists, getting ready to defend her. Clarke never imagined Wells ever raising his fists to a woman, but she knew her brother would do anything to protect her. This shouldn't be a surprise to her even the slightest.

Monroe was looking like she was trying to decide on what to do to help. Clarke decided to talk before things heated up.

"Answer me and tell me what mountain you're talking about?" She kept her voice smooth. She didn't want any fighting to break out. And she really hoped none of the others came out of the bunker. She didn't need Jasper, Monty, Fox, Trina, Pascal or Harper to panic.

Niylah thankfully was in an informative mood. She smiled, as if knowing everything already. "The Mountain Men. Those that stole my people for years and years. They're from the Mountain. But you came down only today. I do not believe that you from them. That is a second reason why I wish no harm to befall you. And I would not wish for my people to strike yours out of ignorance. It would be a needless loss of life. And it would dishonor my people. Now, do any of you need help or wish to trade anything?"

Clarke's stomach tightened. She wanted to keep Niylah safe. She had to. Niylah, besides Lincoln, had been the only Grounder to really help her in any way. Anya had just tried to wipe her people out. Lexa had deceived her and only after her hands were wiped clean of the Mountain Men, did she try to help a foreign group of people when her standing back and doing nothing while those foreign people were taken advantage of by the Mountain Men failed.

Roan and the rest of the Ice Nation saw the Sky people as enemies or resources for pillaging.

Niylah was one of the few Grounders that Clarke and the others could potentially trust. She wanted to believe what Niylah said. And if she wanted all of her people on the Ark to survive, then she would need help on the ground. The help she had hoped would come from the Luwoda. But she did not know anyone in the Luwoda. She knew Niylah. But if she brought any of the 100 to Niylah's trading post, that would endanger Niylah and Niylah's father, Jethro.

She couldn't risk that.

Clarke heard Wells speak in a hushed voice to Monroe, "Do you remember this Grounder?" Monroe shook her head. "No. I've never seen her before." Clarke tried not to groan. No, they had never seen Niylah before. But SHE had. The frustrations of knowing something but not being able to communicate it to anyone else was worse than overwhelming. It was exhausting. Almost as exhausting as how much she had tried to help her people in the other timeline, but it had been thrown back in her face with complete disregard for her feelings or their own lives.

She had wanted this time to be different. And she would make it different if she had to. But to do that, she couldn't trust anyone around her. Maybe not even Monroe. And she wanted to trust Wells so badly. But she had to be careful of him too. For all she knew, maybe he would become self-righteous and judgmental of her actions like Octavia had become in the other timeline.

Clarke spoke quickly, wanting to dissuade any thoughts the others might manifest over possibly going to Niylah's trading post, "It sounds like a good offer, but we know nothing about you."

Niylah nodded. "And I know nothing about you. But I am inviting people, with guns, into my home. I know what guns are. The Mountain Men use guns. I know what guns can do. But I'm willing to trust that you won't pull the trigger. You," She looked right at Clarke, "Have been ordering these other Sky People around. And you have gotten them food. You have found weapons for them. I do not believe such a wise leader would do something so foolish like injuring or killing someone she doesn't know and risking war with another group."

Clarke's heart raced, heat growing in her stomach and chest, but she must have only widened her eyes a second, before narrowing her eyes. "How long have you been watching us?" She asked coldly.

Niylah smiled, showing a kindness in her appearance. "Only since you came here and found that." She nodded at the wide hole of the bunker. "I knew you were from that ship that I was told by others of the Trikru landed far off. And I've followed you to where you've been hunting. I'd like it if we didn't risk war. And I believe that you are a worthy leader who would make wise decisions for her people." Niylah watched Clarke with interest. "I would like to believe that I am right about you."

Clarke resisted the impulse to trust this woman. She couldn't let her guard down around anyone. But if she wasn't careful this time around, she could endanger her people through all new different reasons. If she neglected to show a Trikru good faith, that might signal to the Trikru that they were hostile. It was true that Clarke knew now there was no one that could be trusted. Maybe not even Niylah. But they had to appear that they were working with other people. If only to deceive through appearances.

Clarke frowned and said in a deep voice, "Alright. I'll go with you. But only on two conditions. If the others stay here and if I can bring my gun."

Clarke expected the reactions she got, but again, they were annoying. Wells and Monroe both protested that they weren't leaving her alone. Finn gave a startled gasp, "Wait, you shouldn't go alone."

Octavia snapped with rage, "Who the hell do you think you are, telling me what to do?! I'm not staying here."

Clarke turned on the others, "We need people to stay with the others at the bunker and make sure the radios are taken care of. We can't risk the radios. So someone needs to stay with them. What if it's a trap that I'm stepping into? I need some people to stay here."

Finn protested, "If it's a trap, then that's even more of a reason why you shouldn't go alone." Clarke sighed, holding back a groan.

"I'll go with you." Wells said fiercely. Clarke shook her head. "No, Wells, I need you here. With the radios and the others. Make sure the radios are running. Those radios are the only way the rest of the Ark will come down with everyone alive." Clarke stepped closer to her brother, keeping her ear sharp for any activity Niylah might be doing.

"Look, Wells, if you really want to help me, then do this. If any of the wristbands come off, then we're one step closer to the people on the Ark dying." Clarke deliberately said it like that instead of mentioning what Octavia's brother was going to do, so as not to make Octavia ask questions. "If you stay with Monty and help him with the radios, that will really be helpful and probably save most of our people. Please, Wells, for me, do this." Clarke stared at her brother, knowing she was being manipulative, but didn't care. This was what had to be done. So she couldn't save every single life, including every single horse and dog? So what? She couldn't be a nice domesticated person for everyone while getting them to do things. So what? This was what it took to save lives. If the 100 couldn't deal with that to survive, then maybe they didn't deserve to live.

Wells nodded. "Okay. I'll do it." Wells's face again revealed that he would rather be doing anything else than doing as Clarke asked, but Clarke saw that he was going to do it.

The young black man raised his hands to the back of his neck as he often did when he was nervous about something and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hands. "Clarke," He said, "Just promise me, you'll be careful. Don't die." He stared at her, brown eyes giving her a warning.

Clarke chuckled. "I promise. And don't die on me either, Wells. Promise me that." Wells nodded, dropping his arms. He leaned forward and even though there was the barrel of a gun aimed at his feet, he hugged Clarke.

"I promise." He mumbled to her. "I won't die."

They moved away from each other and Clarke met Wells's eyes. "Go help the others. And keep those weapons close." Wells nodded. Clarke looked at Monroe. "Monroe, can you stay with the others? I trust you're good with weapons?" Monroe nodded. "Yeah. How hard could it be? Just point and shoot." Clarke rolled her eyes. "Sure."

Monroe stepped closer to Wells. "We'll tell the others that you guys are going. But Clarke? Are you sure this woman's trustworthy?" Monroe edged close to Clarke, eyes on Niylah, not wanting Clarke to be near the Grounder.

Clarke nodded to Niylah and mouthed to Monroe, 'It's alright. I know her.'

Monroe's eyes widened in realization. "Oh." She said. "Right then. Be careful."

Clarke nodded, smiling. She wanted to believe that Monroe could be trusted. She wanted to believe it almost as badly as she wanted to believe Wells and Niylah to be trustworthy. But she knew she had to be careful.

Finn started coming closer. "I want to come." He looked at Niylah. "I'm not going to feel good unless I know more about these people." Clarke sighed, contemplating. Finn, at the beginning, had not been a murderer. None of them, save for Murphy and a few others had. Not even Bellamy had been originally. And in the beginning, Finn had wanted only peace with the Grounders. The later Finn hadn't been worthy of trust. But maybe this old Finn was.

Clarke nodded. "Alright. But Finn, you do anything stupid and I'm going to punch you so hard your nose will be in your brain." Finn's eyes widened and he swallowed. He looked like he might faint at the threat and Clarke couldn't blame him. She had made it evident in her tone that she was not bluffing. Clarke wasn't sure she really would do it. For Raven's sake, she might stop herself. But she made sure she sounded like she meant it.

Octavia, as usual, decided to make her decision known. "I'm coming with you. I don't care what you say. You're not telling me what to do. You want to go and check this woman's place out. So do I." Clarke was fighting the impulse to snort, as had become her impulse over time. She turned her attention to Octavia. The brunette was staring at her with cold purpose. "I'm going. Deal with it, princess." Octavia didn't sneer the title out this time like she had the other times. Clarke sighed. These idiots could very well get them into a war. It hadn't been Finn or Octavia to do it last time, but it could be this time if she wasn't careful.

"Alright." She said, "But if either of you risk war, I'm not bothering with punching you. I'm just going to shoot you." This time, Clarke knew she meant it. If there was even a chance that war might start because of either of these two then she would have to kill them. For Raven and Lincoln, she would try not to. But if they DID try to start a war, even if it was unintentional, they had to die.

She shrugged. "Fine." She turned to Niylah, ignoring Octavia's startled expression. "You want to show us your place where you trade things? Well, bring us there, please." Niylah just gave a smile. She nodded. She turned and started walking through the forest. Clarke turned back to Monroe and Wells. "Wells, help Monty with the radios. Monroe, start cooking the deer and the birds. Keep the weapons close if there are any others like this women hiding." Monroe nodded. Wells did too and Clarke followed Niylah. Octavia and Finn started following close behind Clarke. Clarke held her gun close. She didn't know if she could shoot Niylah like she knew she could Finn and Octavia. But she really hoped she wouldn't have to.


	5. One more that knows the truth

The walk through the deep, thick woods wasn't a pleasant or peaceful one. The sun was setting slowly and the trees were rustling hard. There were the beginnings of many chirping crickets making their noisy music. Clarke at one time might have appreciated the noise. But now? Now they were just irritating. A distraction from what Clarke had to focus on. She stared at Niylah's back, readying herself for any trouble.

Niylah's back was covered with her brown leather and a black fur jacket, her light blonde braids hung down her back. Clarke always had wanted to tangle her fingers through those braids, but was always nervous about how Niylah would react. What had been between Niylah that day when she and the trader had slept together hadn't been about intimacy. It had been in hopes of forgetting something awful. A distraction. Touching a sexual partner's hair, even if it was a partner like a one-time partner, was a very intimate thing to do. So Clarke ignored the desire to do that. Not a good idea. She was doing everything over and she was going to do it the smart way this time.

That wasn't even taking into account that Octavia and Finn were behind her and would be watching her do this. She had almost forgotten them during the time she started following Niylah to now.

She would not let anyone in this time. She wouldn't even give an inch of trust to so much as one human being that wasn't Wells.

The trail to Niylah's trading post wasn't as long as Clarke thought it would be. After a few twists and turns and many more steps down the path, they reached the tall, wide trading post that belonged to Niylah's father, Jethro. Clarke stared at the modest, but very welcoming post. It was as soothing to see as Clarke remembered it being.

"Thank you." Clarke said, not wanting to be entirely ungrateful for the hospitality. "I know that you probably weren't planning on having three people here this late at night, let alone strangers." To be fair, it wasn't that late. It was only a few hours after the afternoon. Almost 7. It hadn't even gotten dark yet. Niylah shook her head Clarke noticed the older woman smiling at her over her shoulder.

"Oh, no," Niylah said, sounding pleased, "You are always welcome. You should know this. I'm happy to have you." Something about the way Niylah said "have you" made a strange shiver go down Clarke's spine. It was specifically how she said, "to have YOU." As if she meant having Clarke and only Clarke. But Clarke knew she had to ignore that. That was just her hopeful thinking. Thinking that maybe Niylah still would want her, even though because of this new timeline, Niylah shouldn't even remember her. She watched the older woman. She glanced behind her at Finn and Octavia, just to be sure that they hadn't heard any of what she and Niylah had just said to each other.

The question popped up in her head more than a few times. Did Niylah remember?

The question bothered her. If Niylah remembered and if she was loyal to Lexa, then there would be trouble. But Clarke remembered that she and the others last time hadn't gone this way. So it was entirely likely that them running into Niylah after going in this direction could just be a coincidence.

The thought was laughable. Coincidences? Did those even exist?

Clarke had to wonder after everything. After all the betrayals, it was hard to think that Niylah hadn't done this deliberately to find them and betray them to the Commander.

When Niylah, Clarke, Finn and Octavia got to the trading post and Niylah pulled out a batch of heavy, brass keys, taking the smallest one with a few scratches across its head and stuck it into the keyhole, turning the key. The door unlocked and Niylah pushed the door open and stepped through. Clarke followed. Finn and Octavia both stayed behind and were tense, but after Clarke gave them a smirk, Octavia glared and followed. Finn sighed and walked after her.

Niylah closed the door behind them. She brought the keys to one of the tables, cluttered with stuff like pieces of fur, knives and wooden figurines. She went behind the table to look at the three teenagers that were in the middle of her post. Clarke was watching her suspiciously, while Finn and Octavia were looking around the shop with awe and fascination.

"There are people down here." Octavia said. She looked at Niylah and smirked, "This place could be better." Clarke almost wanted to hit Octavia with the butt of her gun. Octavia might have been raised under the floorboards, but she had to wonder how much of that she could really blame for Octavia's savage and spoiled behavior. Was it all hiding her whole life? As much as Clarke didn't trust Bellamy anymore, she knew that he had to have been somewhat civilized back on the Ark, to maintain a normal life, not to mention to keep his sister hidden. Then there was the Blake siblings' mother. From the things she remembered both Octavia and Bellamy telling her, Clarke was sure that the mother had been wonderful to them both. She heard from her father who had been told by his grandfather, one of the first people on the Ark how siblings remembered parents differently. So if both Blake siblings told her that their mother was wonderful and treated and taught them well, then what was Octavia's excuse?

Despite her being kept nonexistent to everyone else, her brother and her mother being her only human contact and being sent down to Earth just for being born, Clarke could think of no reason for how much of a piece of shit Octavia was. Hitting on anyone she wanted? Fair enough. Now she had her fair share of people to hit on, as opposed to a few months ago when she only knew her brother and mother. And Clarke knew better than to judge. She had slept with a good number of girls and boys on the Ark. Only four people. But when she first got down here, it felt had like a lot. It didn't anymore.

Not wanting to listen to anyone anymore, including her big brother? Also fair enough. Why would she want to after being locked up for so long?

But the other things? Hoping everyone on the Ark died, even if she hadn't meant it, being more angered about who was telling them what to do than being worried about millions of people on the Ark dying? That, Clarke couldn't forgive. Octavia was petty and stupid. It made Clarke wonder something that she never would have the last time. That maybe it would be safer for everyone if Octavia was shot through the head and her body was buried six feet beneath the ground where no one would find the selfish waste of life.

But Clarke didn't entertain that thought long. If she did that, she'd have to do that to a lot of other people. Miller, Jasper, Dax, Murphy, Charlotte and Bellamy were all too dangerous not to do that instantly.

Not that Clarke didn't think it was a very good idea to do, but if she was going to start killing people, she knew she'd have to do it the smart way. Without anyone knowing she was doing it. People couldn't know that it was her doing the putting down.

Clarke said coldly to Octavia, not sugarcoating her voice, "Considering we came down without any warning, Blake, I don't think she's had time to clean up. Besides, people shouldn't have to do anything when their being hospitable to a guest. I'm sure you don't know anything about being polite, Octavia." Clarke turned to the younger girl, staring without any heat in her eyes. "But when you enter someone else's home, you try to be as polite as possible. But I don't expect anything of higher education from someone who can't even figure out that if we don't play it smart, we could all die."

Octavia's expression became incensed and Clarke asked, smirking, "Do you really want to try to attack me again? Do your remember what happened last time you attacked me? And I'm holding a gun, in case you hadn't noticed." She watched Octavia tense and glare at her. But Octavia stayed where she was. Clarke chuckled. "Very good. I guess you do have a brain." She turned away from the brunette, checking out of the corner of her eye to make sure Octavia didn't try to jump her from behind. She said to Niylah, who was still watching them with fascination, "Sorry about that. We're all new to Earth."

Niylah nodded. "I understand. And to answer your question." She looked over at Octavia. "Yes, there are many of us. Many different tribes. You are welcome to anything here in the shop. As long as you have something to trade. Who speaks for the three of you." Niylah looked at Clarke as soon as she finished asking that question. Clarke tensed, trying not to assume that Niylah remembered. Clarke was carrying the gun and she had been the most vocal. So it was easy to assume that she was the one who spoke for the three of them.

"No one speaks for us." Octavia snapped. But Clarke noticed that Niylah hadn't broken her intense gaze from her eyes. Niylah was still staring at Clarke with interest…..and happiness and want.

Clarke swallowed. There was a twitching in the back of her head in warning. Niylah remembers, the twitch said. Niylah remembers. But she couldn't be sure of that. How could she be sure of that? Despite the few subtle messages Niylah was sending her, there was nothing solid Clarke had to assume that Niylah remembered. And even if she did remember, what did she remember exactly? A stranger who took advantage of her hospitality and used her to stop feeling pain over the mountain for one night? A stranger who had put her in danger of bounty hunters? A stranger who just happened to avenge Niylah's mother, but could have gotten Niylah killed? A stranger who was part of a people who had gotten a great deal of Niylah's people killed, even if it had been on Pike, Bellamy and their violent group?

No, it was better that Niylah remembered nothing from the last time.

Niylah's smile remained. "May I ask what your name is?" Niylah looked at Clarke, and Clarke got the uneasy impression that the older woman already knew her name. "Clarke." Clarke answered, not sure if she had done the smart thing just now. "My name's Clarke." Niylah nodded, no surprise in her eyes. That look didn't help Clarke's nerves.

Clarke said quietly, nodding back to Finn and Octavia, "That's Finn. And the loudmouth girl is Octavia." She ignored Octavia's huffing growl. Niylah didn't answer to Clarke's information about Finn and Octavia's names. She just kept smiling at Clarke. She walked over to some metal pieces on another table and picked the closest one up. It was shiny and silver, studded with small, bright blue stones embedded in the length of the metal.

She offered it out to Octavia, "Oktevia, would you like to look at this?"

Clarke was startled and turned around, looking at Octavia who walked over, curious about the metal. She took the piece of metal into her hands, staring at it in awe. Niylah smiled. "You seemed like the type to appreciate beautiful things."

While Octavia was staring at the metal and looking at the other pieces of colorful metals, Niylah walked over to Clarke and Finn. She looked at Finn and said, "You seem like the type that might be interested in exploring. Please, look all over the shop if you want." She spread her arms out around her. "Look everywhere if you'd like." Clarke glanced at Finn and could see that he wanted to stay with her, but wanted to look around the shop too.

"I'll be fine." Clarke told Finn. "Go look around if you want."

Finn nodded, and sent a distrustful glare at Niylah, before starting to wander around the post, looking at the shelves, then looking over at Niylah and Clarke to make sure Clarke was alright.

Clarke turned back to Niylah, scowling at her with suspicion. "What are you after, Niylah? What do you want?"

Niylah's smile turned to a smirk. "Want, Klark? Nothing. Except you." Clarke didn't move, didn't breathe. Had she just heard that correctly? The older woman had said the words so quietly that she wasn't sure. But she was almost positive that she just heard Niylah said that the only thing she wanted was Clarke. Had she misheard? Was being here messing with her mind? Reminding her of what she and Niylah had done one time together so that Clarke could chase away the demons from Mount Weather?

Clarke's hands tightened on the gun. It scared her how much she realized she wanted Niylah to have said what she thought Niylah had just said. Clarke had found refuge and even tenderness with Niylah. That one time, that one night between the two of them had been amazing. Clarke had tried to take control in Niylah's bed but had quickly been dominated. And Clarke found even then she had only been excited by that. Still was. She hadn't needed to be in control with Niylah. She hadn't needed to be the one in charge.

Niylah had taken charge and soothed her pain again and again and again.

So Clarke knew that a part of her wanted to fall into bed again with the older woman. But that wasn't a possibility. Niylah wasn't safe. She wasn't safe because of Clarke's feelings, because Niylah was a Grounder who might still be loyal to the Commander, and because the less Niylah was involved in this, the better off she and her father were.

"I'm not sure I heard you right." Clarke said, sure that she must have misheard what Niylah said. The older woman didn't look deterred. She nodded and stepped closer. She said in a low voice that made a rumble go off in Clarke's stomach, "I said, Klark," Niylah purred, "I want nothing, except you. Perhaps you'll join me in bed again." Clarke almost gasped, taking a few steps away from Niylah, her eyes widening. Again? Niylah did remember!

"You…?" Clarke asked, shocked. Niylah's smile widened and she looked pleased by something. Niylah remembered. Had she been checking to see if Clarke remembered too?

"Clarke?" Finn asked, coming over, are you alright?" He stayed next to Clarke, looking at Niylah.

Clarke nodded, turning to Finn. "It's fine, Collins. I'm fine. Niylah was just telling me how many tribes lived on Earth." She gave the older blonde a warning look. "Right, Niylah?"

The older woman nodded without hesitation. "Of course. Klark seems surprised that as many as twelve tribes can survive on Earth." Finn understandably dropped his lower jaw.

"Twelve tribes?!" Octavia asked, putting the metal piece back down on the table. "Shit, really? For crying out loud, how many people are down here?!"

Clarke answered at Octavia, without turning to her, "A lot, it looks like."

Octavia and Finn didn't know just how many people were down here and they didn't know how these people operated, but Clarke knew it would make no difference if they found out. Clarke said to Niylah, trying to ignore the shock and fear of knowing that Niylah remembered, and ignore the uneasiness and desire that she felt, knowing that Niylah still seemed to want her, "Is there a way that my people can pass through here into other lands where we can live peacefully, without disturbing any of your people?"

Clarke knew that she was stepping into a dangerous area. She didn't want Lexa to know of their presence, but it was unlikely that them landing in Trikru land hadn't already drawn a great deal of attention to them. So the question became, what did they do? Did they go all out fighting like before? Clarke knew what would happen if they did that. Like before. And what would happen if they fled? Clarke remembered that Lexa had given them that option before. They could flee through the desert or stay here and fight and die. It looked like fleeing was their only real option.

But Clarke knew that no one else would listen. Octavia was an idiot. So was her brother. They were both too self-absorbed to care. Too stubborn. Finn, Harper, Jasper and Monty? They might listen. Monroe and Wells would probably listen. As for everyone else? They probably already were jumping whenever Bellamy told them to jump. So there was no point in seeing if they'd help.

But that left a question of how Clarke was going to get everyone else down here alive and get them to a safe location. Monty and Wells were working on the radios. So Clarke could tell everyone on the Ark that if they saw the monitors saying that all the wristbands that kept track of the delinquents suddenly went dead, then they shouldn't be alarmed. That just meant that the 100 and their leader were traitors. They should ignore that and just come down. They were all alive, even though the monitors said otherwise. She would tell her useless mother, Sinclair, Callie, Kane and Jaha to ignore the monitors and come down and to aim for the territories outside of any Grounder territory.

Clarke remembered the maps where all the Grounder lands were. South America, Europe, Iceland, Greenland, Africa, Asia, all the islands along Asia's border, as far as everyone knew, were unoccupied. There were plenty of places they could flee to.

The tribes lived across North America. And stayed in only one country. It made them very blindsided and didn't bother to expand. And it was convenient for Clarke's people.

They needed to find someplace as far away from the tribes as they could get. Anywhere that wasn't occupied by Grounders would be good. They just needed ships from either the Luwoda or the Floukru.

"I have maps," Niylah said, smiling. "If you're interested."

Clarke nodded, the prickly feeling like Niylah remembered everything not going away anytime soon.

If they could get a map and it could lead them to a safer location, that would be for the best. Niylah went to one of her shelves and picked up a wooden box, bringing it to the table and putting it down in front of Finn and Clarke. She reached into the box and pulled out three scrolls, pulling the metal rings around their middles off and putting the scrolls on the table for Clarke and Finn to look at. "Maps." Niylah said, looking at the scrolls now. "These are maps of the lands beyond the borders of three of the other tribes and just at the border of three other tribes."

Clarke nodded, walking over, tentatively reaching out to these maps that could be their final hope.

She opened up one of the maps and saw South America and all its countries printed along the length of the paper. She put that scroll down and opened another one, seeing the entirety of Asia and all its named countries across the body of the page. Clarke sighed, putting the paper down, taking in all the names of the countries. She had thought she was too jaded to care about seeing the world after everything, but looking at these maps and seeing all these countries, made a strong pang of yearning go off in her.

She wanted to see these places. She wanted to see the landscapes and any remaining architecture that might have survived the bombs. Clarke asked, her voice weaker than she'd like, "What do you want for these maps, Niylah?" Niylah cocked her head and Clarke really hoped that Niylah didn't say anything about her remembering what had happened in the last timeline to either Finn or Octavia.

"That matter," Niylah said, looking past Clarke at Finn and Octavia, is between you and I. Not between us and your friends. Can they please look elsewhere? While we speak?"

Clarke stiffened and looked over at Finn and Octavia. Finn now looked startled and ready to refuse. Octavia looked pissed, as to be expected.

Clarke stared at Niylah and knew that what the older woman was suggesting was dangerous, but it made sense. If Niylah remembered, then what was to be discussed between her and Clarke shouldn't be heard by either Finn or Octavia. Not unless they wanted people to know about the other timeline. Or if they wanted people to think they were insane. She nodded and turned back to Finn and Octavia.

"Finn, Octavia," She said, "Do you think you guys can look around the other side of the store for a while?"

Octavia looked all kinds of offended. Finn looked hurt. Clarke wasn't going to move from this request. "If this business deal is between me and Niylah, then it might pull through faster if there was just me and Niylah talking." She added, smirking at Octavia, "Or do you think you're so important that your interest comes before the safety of millions of people?"

Octavia's jaw tightened and she looked like she might attempt a swing of a fist at Clarke, but she didn't move. All she did was glance down at the gun in Clarke's hands and huffed, turning around and stomping away further into the shop, going through the fur door to the other side. Clarke nodded. One idiot down. One more to go.

She turned to Finn, waiting. Finn paused and looked like he wanted to refuse. Clarke said quietly, "Finn, if you want this to work and if you want us to be safe, then give me and Niylah some time to talk about how to settle this. If you don't? Then sorry, Space Walker, but you're useless to me." She got the look she had been expecting. Surprise, then more hurt. There was a flash of anger, then Finn nodded and left, going out of the room into the next one to join Octavia.

Clarke watched the tracker go. When the fur flap went down and Finn disappeared, Clarke turned back to Niylah. Niylah's smirk was kind of bigger. Probably because she knew that what the two of them were about to talk about wasn't just what was in exchange for anything that might be given to them at this shop. They were also going to discuss what the other remembered.

"Sorry about that." Clarke said quietly. "Now in exchange? What do you want?"

"What do I want in exchange?" Niylah repeated. "Nothing. Except to come with you."

Clarke gasped, staring at the older woman like Niylah had just said that the Mountain Men were here. What had Niylah just said? "Come with us?" Clarke demanded. "Come with us?"

Niylah nodded. "Sha. Come with you. My nontu…..he knows that I won't be staying here forever. He knows eventually I will be leaving to find my own life. I've stayed with him and fulfilled my duty for almost twenty-eight years. As you know, Klark, my mother was taken by the mountain when I was nine. And I've had to look after my father's duties in her absence. But my nontu knows I won't stay for much longer. Let me come with you, Wanheda."

Clarke gasped. Her heart raced. Niylah remembered. Like Monroe remembered. But how?

How did only the three of them remember?

"I'm not…..I'm not Wanheda at this time, Niylah." Clarke said quietly, just barely remembering that Finn and Octavia were in the next room. "I haven't killed any of the Mountain Men this time."

Niylah nodded. "I know. And I do not see you as any less the great warrior and commander. You are remarkable. I would never see you as less than anything but a hero." Clarke was taken aback by those words. Such strong words to someone who hadn't even earned them technically yet. She hadn't even pulled the lever inside the mountain yet. So how could Niylah say something like that?

"I don't understand," Clarke said, looking at the fur door where Finn and Octavia were behind, to make sure she didn't see their shadows nearby. "How do you remember? And why would you say that? I haven't killed the Mountain Men yet. So I'm not a hero."

And she was contemplating not hurting the Mountain Men at all. If the Mountain Men preyed on Grounders, could she really be too upset? As long as the Mountain Men didn't bother the Ark people, then why should Clarke care? The Grounders left her people to die. So it meant nothing to them what might happen to the sky people. So why should Clarke and her people treat them any other way but the same way they were treated?

Trikru, Floukru, Azgeda, Luwoda, Trishana, Boudalan, all the other tribes. They could perish inside the mountain, for all Clarke cared.

The only exceptions to the rule were Niylah, Niylah's father and Lincoln. That was it.

Clarke then thought about Roan. The Ice Nation prince. She supposed he had been a decent man. An honorable man. He had just wanted to return to his people. And he looked at her with a strange combination of respect, amusement, wonder and even kindness. Clarke would have liked to believe that Roan was another exception to the rule. But because this was before everything else, Roan was still in exile. Which meant he'd do anything to be accepted back by his mother or get the exile on him lifted by the Commander. Including hunt down Sky children.

There was no chance Clarke could trust the man. It was too risky.

That again, only left Lincoln, Niylah and Niylah's father, unfortunately.

Niylah didn't look troubled by Clarke's words of denying that she had done anything heroic. "No?" Niylah asked. "You are not a hero? Are you not taking care of your people? Are you not trying to make sure that the rest of your people come down to the ground? You haven't changed, Klark. You are still a hero."

Clarke chuckled, smirking, "I've changed plenty. The first time I came down? I wasn't the same person I am now. I would have trusted you in a second the last time."

Niylah shook her head. "You're still the same person you were when I first met you. You remember. You didn't trust me. You thought I'd tell the bounty hunters about you. You thought that you had to hide who you were from me." Niylah leaned down on the table, hands over the edge, dark eyes taking Clarke in. "I would never betray you, Klark kom Skaikru. And my loyalty is at your disposal whenever you need it. All I ask is that you take me with you wherever you go."

Clarke's mouth dropped at these incredibly loyal words. Was Niylah serious? Niylah really wanted to come with them? With her?

"Why, Niylah?" Clarke asked, heart pounding, remembering the heat and need that had grown strong every day she was in this trading post, whenever she faced Niylah.

Niylah just kept smiling. "Because, Klark, I have loved you since the moment I first saw you in our previous lives."

Clarke stared at Niylah, stunned. Niylah was willing to come with them? She wanted to come with her? And Niylah…loved her?

Clarke tried to ignore the overwhelming pounding in her chest, the heat expanding in her chest. Niylah loved her? She couldn't fall for this. She had been too trusting with Anya and Lexa. And it ended with her people almost dying. She had trusted Bellamy to be a good friend and it had led to her death.

She couldn't afford trust anymore. She said quietly, hands holding the gun troublingly close, "I want to believe you, Niylah. I do. But the past has taught me to never trust anyone." Niylah nodded, losing her smile. But she didn't look upset. "I understand." The older woman announced. She looked over at the fur flap of the door going into the next room. Clarke assumed it was to make sure that neither Finn nor Octavia were coming in. They probably weren't, since Niylah looked back at Clarke.

"I understand why you don't trust me. I know what your people did the last time. And I understand why you might have a hard time trusting other people." Clarke stiffened.

"Do you have any idea how this happened?" Clarke asked Niylah, careful about what she said.

Niylah smirked again. "How what happened? How we're all back to before the war between your people and mine started? Before the circle of fire?" Clarke couldn't ignore the spark of heated admiration that showed up in Niylah's eyes, mentioning how many people died in that circle of fire that Clarke ordered to have made. "Or," Niylah continued, "How no one remembers except for myself and you?"

Clarke knew better than to mention Monroe. Better to keep Monroe's awareness of what happened a secret. "Both." Clarke answered, shrugging.

Niylah nodded. "I don't know. I know just as much as you do, Klark kom Skaikru. Maybe less. I woke up here in my father's post. I got dressed and went to work. The last thing I remembered doing before that was hearing that another Skaikru attack was on its way. And I learned information that you were killed by one of these Skaikru." Niylah's eyes darkened and Clarke was startled at the anger in Niylah's eyes. Niylah continued, "I wept for you. Prayed to the gods for your return. I don't remember falling asleep before that. But I woke up. I was waiting for the new information about the Skaikru, but it never came. Then I heard that something fell from the sky. Just today. I wondered if more Sky People were coming. But then I learned from travelers who were looking to trade were fleeing from the Mountain Men." Niylah's sad smile appeared. "And I understood that the Mountain Men still lived. And that time had started over. Somehow. And that you were still alive because time started over."

Clarke frowned. "And you just accepted this?" Clarke asked, trying not to laugh at how quick Niylah was to buy all of this. She just accepted everything that she found out?

Niylah chortled, "Why shouldn't I? This has never happened before. I don't believe. But I believe in gods and spirits. Why shouldn't they take mercy on one of their greatest warriors? Especially if someone that loved that warrior prays for them to return" Niylah smiled down at Clarke with meaning. Clarke's eyes became big. Niylah meant her? She thought that the gods started time over to make sure that Clarke still lived? That was crazy. Clarke had done way more damage over time than any good. She wasn't a great warrior. If she was, then she never would have trusted Anya, Lexa or Bellamy. But she had. So she wasn't a great warrior.

Clarke shook her head. "I'm not as great as you think I am, Niylah. And I don't think time started over because of me. It was probably something else that we don't know about. We'll find out. But are you sure that you want to come with us?" Niylah nodded without hesitation.

"Sha, Klark." Niylah answered. "I am. Are all of the people with you right now going?"

Clarke thought about Niylah's words. She meant all of the 100? She should probably let Niylah in on some of what was going on.

"No, not all of them." She answered, glancing back at the fur door, keeping her voice quiet. She saw no shadow by the other side of the door. Finn and Octavia were not close by. She said in an almost silent voice to Niylah, leaning in, "I'm going. With only a few people. We're away from our camp. And I don't plan on going back to the camp. The people there can't be trusted. The leader who has taken control of the camp there right now? He's the one that eventually gets me killed." Niylah's eyes widened. Her mouth parted, to show her angered, clenched teeth. Clarke was grateful there wasn't any sharp object close by. Just on the next table. Even if it was for her, she didn't want Niylah grabbing a knife anytime soon while Finn and Octavia were in the next room.

"He was the one that killed you?" Niylah asked in a deathly calm voice. Clarke shivered at the sound. She shook her head. "Not directly. He handed me to the person that killed me. So he might as well have been the one to kill me." She continued, before Niylah could show off anymore anger, "That's why I'm trying to stay away from the camp. The man that got me killed? He's taken control. And none of the others in the camp can be trusted. So I'm trying to get the few people that can be trusted away so that we can let the rest of the people on the Ark know we're alive. Then I want all of us to run to another land that doesn't have any tribe that might try to kill us on it."

Clarke knew that Niylah already heard their plans before, but it felt strange to tell Niylah her full plan, step by step. But now Niylah knew.

Niylah moved back from Clarke and lost her anger. She asked, watching Clarke, "You intend for your people, the few you're taking with you and the rest on this 'Ark' to live somewhere else. Not tribal lands?" She looked down at the map of South America. Clarke nodded. "Yeah. It would be safer for all of us. Not just my people." Clarke didn't really care if Niylah's people were safe as a result of the Ark people moving to South America, but she knew she could use that argument to her advantage. "Your people would be a lot safer too. They wouldn't be involved with any war with us. The circle of fire would never happen. That village that got burned down will be safe. And no other villages will be attacked."

Niylah nodded, accepting all of this as good. She said, "That is something I would be happy about. But if we, and the few people are fleeing and so are the rest of the people from this Ark, what about the other hundred back in the territory that you just left?"

Clarke had a grim look on her face now. She looked back at the fur door. Still no Octavia or Finn. To her relief, she spotted them just through the cracks between the flaps of door. They were far off in the hall. Looking at things on the wall. She turned to Niylah and spoke quietly. "I don't care." She told Niylah honestly. "They proved that they couldn't be trusted. They're the ones that endangered the rest of the Ark people time and time again. So I can't trust them. I'll let the Commander's warriors kill them all. Just as long as the rest of the Ark people survive, as long as the majority of people survive, that's all I care about."

She had said it so quietly. But she knew her words could have gotten her killed potentially by Octavia or Octavia's brother. Good thing Octavia wasn't paying attention.

Niylah looked surprised by these words. She stared at Clarke. "You HAVE changed." She admitted quietly. "Last time you would have done anything to protect all of your people." Clarke nodded. "And that was a mistake. That was what got me killed. Thinking I could save everyone. I tried to save all my people, and so I got killed for it. I can't save all of them like I thought I could last time. I have to sacrifice some of them to save the rest of them. If ninety-something of them have to die to save millions, then I'll leave them to die."

Clarke expected disgust and fear to spread over Niylah's face. It didn't. To Clarke's shock, Niylah nodded without surprise and she smiled. "You see?" The older woman said, pleased. "You are a great leader. Never doubt that, Klark."

Clarke sighed, chuckling. It looked like there wasn't much that could faze Niylah. Not that she wasn't grateful, because she was. But she had to make sure Niylah could be trusted, if only a tiny bit. "If I take you with us," Clarke said quietly, staring into the older woman's eyes, "You really would be willing to go to this unknown place?" She pointed down at the map of South America. She watched Niylah's face.

Niylah's face never changed. The older woman just nodded. "Sha. I am more than willing. I have never been anywhere but a few of the other tribe lands besides the Trikru territory. I wish to explore some parts of the world. And I wish to explore it with you."

Clarke stared at Niylah, chuckling quietly. She wanted to believe this. She really wanted to. But what were the chances that she had gotten so lucky and met someone that after only a few months of knowing her would be willing to do anything for her? To leave her entire home all for her? What were the chances of that? There were no chances. Clarke never got that lucky.

Finn betrayed her and Raven, then killed a bunch of villagers and had to be killed quickly. And Anya and Lexa? They betrayed her first chance they got at the mountain.

Clarke didn't get lucky when it came to lovers. She needed to be very careful.

She shook her head. "I don't know if I believe you." She answered. "But I'll take you with us, if that's really what you want and if you'll give us those maps." Niylah nodded, bowing her head. "I will prove myself to you, Klark." She promised. Clarke grumbled, "I hope you do. But you don't have to prove yourself. You just have to not betray us. Don't betray us and everything will go well. Betray us? Well," Clarke's smile parted into a threatening grin, "Your people didn't call me the Commander of Death in the other timeline for nothing."

It looked like Niylah really wasn't fazed by anything at all. Because she didn't even flinch at this threat. She only nodded and her smile widened. "I understand. I won't betray you. You have my word, Wanheda."

Clarke fought a chuckle. "If we want to do this, Niylah? You need to stop calling me 'Wanheda.' No one knows me that in this timeline except for you. And I haven't even killed the Mountain Men yet. So people will get suspicious if you keep calling me that. It's just Clarke now."

Niylah chuckled, "You'll always be Wanheda to me." Clarke felt a strong warmth fill her chest. Niylah then nodded. "But to fool everyone else, I will just call you 'Clarke.'"

Clarke did chuckle then. "Alright. I guess you can come. But don't say a word of this to either Finn or to Octavia. Octavia is the younger sister of the man that raids the villages later in the future. The same man that gets me killed." Niylah's eyes narrowed and Clarke understood the danger in the older woman's eyes. Niylah reached behind her and grabbed her machete by its handle, looking at the fur door where Octavia was.

"Whoa, whoa, easy!" Clarke hissed at Niylah, "Octavia didn't have anything to do with it. Her brother did it, not her. But she won't believe it if someone tells her that her brother's going to do something like that and she won't listen if we tell her we're leaving her brother to die. So we can't tell her anything." It wasn't a terrible thing if Niylah killed Octavia or Finn. But if she came back to the others without one of them, then there would be questions. And Clarke couldn't risk a piloting a ship full of people about to commit mutiny, not when they found the radios this soon. So she had to keep Finn and Octavia safe for now.

Clarke watched Niylah's hand loosen on the handle of the machete and she let out a breath. Thank goodness. Niylah turned back to Clarke, features softening. "She wasn't part of what led to your death?" The question was so soft and vulnerable that Clarke almost lost her strong composure.

Clarke shook her head. "No, she wasn't. She had no idea what her brother was going to do. She would have stopped it if she knew." Clarke would like to believe that, but she really wasn't sure. Octavia was predictable. The problem with her was that if someone so much as let a foot off the pedestal that she tended to put someone on, she became abusive.

Octavia was dangerous in that way. But Clarke didn't believe that Octavia would have allowed her to die last time. She and Octavia had been breaking into Arkadia to prevent war. So Clarke suspected Octavia would have stopped it. But she wasn't going to trust Octavia this time. She was expendable.

But she couldn't get Octavia killed this soon without questions being raised, so for now they were stuck with Octavia.

"I wouldn't trust her," Clarke said, "She had nothing to do with my death. And we can't do anything to kill her. Not unless we want people to ask questions. But we shouldn't trust her too much. She's still his sister." Niylah nodded after some time.

"And you wish for us to trust no one besides us?" Niylah asked, trying to clarify.

Clarke nodded. "Me. You. And a couple of others. My friend, Wells can be trusted. And so can one other. Monroe."

Niylah nodded back. "I understand. When will we start our journey?"

Clarke tried not to laugh. Niylah was so willing to leave this soon? "What about your father?" Clarke asked.

Niylah answered, "He will be well on his own. I will say goodbye to him. He's outside, in the back. Collecting wood for the fire tonight. I told him that I knew that I needed to find you."

Clarke's heart raced. "Did you mention me?" She asked. She instantly worried about what Niylah had told her father.

Niylah wasn't offended by Clarke's distrust. She smirked. "Fear nothing, Klark. I did not speak your name to my father. I did not mention 'Wanheda,' or Sky people. I just told him that it was time for me to find my own place in the world. And that I knew who my hodness was." Clarke almost sputtered. Hodness? Hodness meant "love" in Trikru language. Niylah had really made her choice about Clarke like that. At Clarke's astounded look, Niylah chuckled. "You don't have to say anything. I just want you to know that I love you. And that I wish to be with you. I don't ask that you return my love."

Clarke needed some time to absorb knowing what Niylah just said. Niylah loved her. And wasn't asking that she return that love.

"You're serious." Clarke said quietly to Niylah.

Niylah looked at Clarke with interest. "Why wouldn't I be serious?"

Clarke paused and chuckled. "Okay. I guess you're coming with us to South America." Clarke looked down at the map where the length of what used to be called 'South America.' That was going to be one trip. After Clarke gave the message to everyone back on the Ark, the others better direct the Ark to South America where they would be safe. Hopefully if more people survived the crash this time, they could make a good life for themselves there. There were no Grounders there, from what Clarke remembered the last time. There were no sightings of other people there. So maybe they'd have a chance.

But first, she had to give that message. Then she and the others would have to get to the Luwoda's territory and get a boat.

Niylah looked down at the page. She nodded. "I suppose I am."

Clarke sighed. "Alright. I'll take the maps. Tell your father that you're leaving and tell him goodbye."

Niylah nodded, smiling. She grabbed the machete and tied it to her belt. While it hung from her belt, Niylah went around the table and stood next to Clarke and lifted her right hand, fingers under Clarke's chin, directing Clarke's face up to her and she leaned down. Her lips just touched Clarke's before she pulled away and smiled at the younger.

"Remember to wait for me, Klark." Niylah breathed against Klark, making the young blonde shiver.

She nodded quickly and Niylah moved away from Clarke and walked out of the shop door. Clarke suspected she was going to the back and saying goodbye to her father. But she wasn't sure. She grabbed the maps, rolling them up and stuffed them into her pockets. She grabbed a few knives and put them into her belt. They each looked sharp enough to bled someone dry if she hit those knives into the right veins. Clarke went past the table to the back and pushed the fur door away, looking into the back room where Octavia was pulling on the bowstring of an old bow up against the wall. Finn was looking at some old photos that were scattered on a shelf.

"You two." Clarke said in a loud voice, making both Octavia and Finn jump. "We should go. We're leaving now. We got what we need. Some knives, maps. We should take off."

Finn nodded and walked over. Octavia glared. She didn't want to listen to Clarke, but Clarke knew that Octavia didn't have anywhere else to go. She let go of the bow and stomped over. She growled, "You have some nerve telling us what to do."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Clarke said, "Whine, whine, whine." She moved past the doorway and went through the trading post, going to the door. She heard Finn and Octavia's footsteps behind her.

Clarke got outside, looking at where Niylah apparently was going before. To the left side where her father was gathering wood. Niylah emerged from behind the shed, carrying three packs of belongings with her. One over her shoulder and two under her arms.

"What's all that?" Clarke asked.

Niylah smiled. "Furs. And spears. We need to hunt animals down for food, don't we?" Clarke stared at Niylah, chuckling at the older woman's willingness to leave her home. Niylah was actually serious.

"You are really coming with us?" Clarke said, laughing quietly.

Niylah nodded. "Why wouldn't I?" Niylah asked, smiling. Niylah walked over and handed one of the bags to Octavia. "Would you like to help?"

Octavia was startled by the action and looked like she wanted to argue, but Clarke said, "She IS giving us the maps. And furs to sleep in."

Octavia looked at the bundle in her arms and settled for carrying it. Niylah turned to Finn and reached out, holding the other pack. Finn much less hesitantly, took the pack and started carrying it.

Niylah started to walk then, walking next to Clarke perfectly. The two of them walked ahead with Octavia and Finn behind them. The four of them began walking the way they came. Back to where Wells, Monroe and the others were. Clarke looked at Niylah, smiling. She didn't know if she could trust Niylah. But there was one more person helping them. A person who knew the truth. That meant a lot. Clarke felt her stomach warm when Niylah smiled back.


	6. All I ask of you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An obvious reference to Gaston Leroux/Andrew Lloyd Webber and Richard Stilgoe's Phantom of the Opera in the title
> 
> Also Anya doesn't remember anything. Yet. Not yet. And I wanted to give Monroe kind of an intellectual background. A sort of self-educated background, since we weren't given that much information about her in the show.

During that noon, Leksa had woken up in her bed, in a sweat. She looked around her room and found the candles, the furs, the marks on the wall. Leksa's heart raced. What happened? She rolled over and grabbed her sword by its hilt at her bedside, pulling it out and searching the room for an intruder. She saw no intruder, but her mind raced to the question of how she got here. She had been in the war room, awaiting news about Klark and Oktevia going to Arkadia to speak with the Sky People about the leader they "elected." Leksa remembered how her heart hurt, thinking of Klark there with only Oktevia as her protection.

Then she woke up here. With no one around her and no memory of what happened after she was waiting for Klark and Oktevia's return. How? Leksa looked around the room for what must have been the tenth time. How had she just woken up here after what had only been seconds ago? Leksa looked down at herself, noting that she was naked. She put her sword on the bed and went to her dresser of clothes. She got dressed and put on her red shroud and silver, metal pauldron.

She got her swords strapped to her back and grabbed her knife. She needed to go find Klark.

Leksa knew that Klark's feelings when it came to her and Onya had been complicated and full of anger since the Mountain. But she needed to know if Klark was alright. And if Klark and Oketvia had been successful in stopping the Skaikru from signing their own death warrant.

Leksa went through the hall, many servants and guards bowing to acknowledge her.

She reached the throne room, all the guards bowing. "Heda." Indra acknowledge Leksa. Leksa stopped in front of her wooden throne and looked at Indra. Really looked at her. Indra looked well. Very well. She looked in no way injured or even frightened like she had before after she had been found amongst the other three hundred dead bodies. Leksa could see no sign of any emotional or physical damage to Indra.

"Indra." Leksa acknowledged.

Indra nodded to behind Leksa. "Gostos has brought news of a fallen star."

Leksa didn't move, thinking about what Indra just said. Gostos? What did Indra mean, a 'fallen star?'

Leksa turned around and her heart almost stopped. Here he was. Alive. Gostos. One of her closest guards and mentors besides Titus and Onya. He was alive. "Gostos…" Leksa whispered, staring at the large man.

Gostos bowed his big head to Leksa, black hair dropping only a few strands, dangling. "Heda." The large man said. "I have to report that a star fell today. It was metal. There were people inside. Young people came out of the metal star and are remaining in Onya's land. Onya is keeping watch of them. I came to bring you this message."

Leksa stared, her heart pounding. Gostos was alive. And time had…..started over somehow? How?

Gostos lifted his head, looking at Leksa with devotion and obedience. "I await your order, Heda. I will send my armies out as soon as you give it." Leksa's breath was caught in her throat. Somehow time had restarted. Gostos was alive. And she, Onya and Klark might have a second chance. Leksa's heart leapt when that thought crossed her mind. She, Onya and Klark could have a second chance. Leksa froze, her heart racing.

After Leksa had taken the deal that Emerson and the Mountain Men's leader offered at the Mountain and been forced to leave Klark's people for dead, Klark had never forgiven either of them. She told Leksa that she would "tolerate" her and Onya for her peoples' sake. But nothing more than that. It hurt Leksa worse than even Kostia's death, to hear Klark say that. But Leksa had done as Klark said, for the sake of Klark's people becoming part of the coalition.

She, Onya and Klark had barely spoken a word to each other after Klark had bowed to Leksa. She would heal Leksa and acknowledge her, give her advice. But nothing more. When the three hundred warriors had been killed in their sleep, Klark had shown enough sadness and grief for them. She told Leksa that she grieved for them because they didn't deserve it. But she said that Leksa and Onya did.

But now? If they were back to before the deal had been done at the mountain, then Leksa, Onya and Klark had a second chance. They could start over. Leksa couldn't help the smile that came over her face. She and Onya could start courting Klark properly this time. And she could keep Klark's people safe, if she captured them before the Mountain Men did.

Gostos narrowed his eyes at Leksa. "Heda?" He asked. Leksa forced her smile from her face, despite her heart soaring. "Gostos," She ordered, "Get your army ready. I am giving your army to Onya. She will have both armies for this task. And have the messenger tell Onya to get ready. Here is my order. Onya and her army and your army are to capture these people. Capture. Only capture. Do NOT harm any of these Sky people. I wish to speak with their leader or leaders." Leksa corrected herself from saying "leaders." She couldn't allow them to know that she knew more than they did. Like the 100 having two leaders. She wished to only speak with Klark, not with the traitorous Belomi. But if she wanted audience with Klark at all, she had to pretend for now that she wished to speak with both leaders of the Skaikru.

She would have her generals and soldiers bring all of the 100 here and she would have Klark in her presence again. This time, she could start over. She could prove to Klark that she and Onya wanted nothing except peace. And this time, without the Mountain Men interfering and offering any deal, she could keep Klark's people safe and pursue a relationship with Klark.

Leksa's soldiers capturing Klark and the other one hundred would make Klark uneasy and distrustful at first. But Leksa and Onya would show her. She'd show Klark that there was nothing to be afraid of and that she wanted what was best for all their people. She would prove herself to Klark this time.

If it was the last thing she did, Leksa would take this chance for her and Onya to win Klark and maintain peace between their people.

Leksa didn't suffer Gostos's startled look long at her command. "This is an order," Leksa said coldly, "Bring all of the people who came out of that metal star to me. Do not harm any of them. If even one of them is cut or bruised, Gostos, there will be dire consequences." Her eyes narrowed dangerously so that Gostos knew she meant her words. Gostos nodded, his jaw tightening the only sign of fear.

Leksa knew better than to trust Gostos. He had betrayed her the other time. It destroyed Leksa to kill him. But justice had to be done. But Leksa knew there was no danger here. Gostos did not know that she intended to form a merge between her people and the Sky people. There was no need for Gostos to know that. Leksa could send the man off after he gave the order. With Gostos distracted he would not interfere and he would not be able to harm Klark or anyone that Klark loved.

"Gostos," She said calmly, "This is one of the most important orders I will give you. Give that order to your messenger and send him to Onya to tell her to only capture all those that came out of the metal star. No harming. And you? I want you to go on an errand for me." Gostos nodded, at attention. Leksa continued, "I am going to send you to spy on the Mountain Men. Watch their every move. Do not go anywhere from the mountain until I send for you. Do you understand?"

Gostos's eyes widened and he nodded. Leksa waved her hand for him to leave. "Good. Now inform the messenger and send him to Onya."

Gostos bowed and turned and left the room. Leksa let out a small breath, knowing to keep herself contained and under control. She could not let anyone know what she was thinking. She could not allow anyone to realize that she knew more about the Sky People than they ever would. But if all one hundred people from the ship were brought here as captives and Leksa could see Klark, they could start over. She and Onya could show Klark that they were good leaders and that they both loved unconditionally.

Leksa knew it might take time for Klark to trust her and Onya both and allow them to court her. But Leksa would do everything right this time and she could help Onya as well, since Onya most likely didn't remember. And this time, the Mountain Men wouldn't get in the way.

In the woods of the Trikru's land, the radios had this time finally been wired the way Monty and Wells wanted them to be wired. Monty and Wells shared a grin. Wells was glad to have someone else around who understood machines as well as he did. They had worked themselves into a conversation. Monty and Jasper had been locked up because they stole and ate a weird plant. Wells told Monty why he had been locked up. Monty almost died of laughter when he heard. Wells had attacked a guard and knocked the guard flat on his ass and had gotten locked up. Wells had blushed when he told Monty that. Monty and Jasper had laughed their asses off when they heard it. The crown prince of the Ark, attacking a guard? Who'd of thought?

When Pascal had told them the reason why he had been locked up, Fox, Harper, Pascal and Trina had laughed harder than he thought they would. Monroe was trying not to burst out laughing, it looked like. The reasons they gave, in hindsight were funny because of how petty and dumb they were.

All of the reasons were absurd reasons to be locked up. But here they were and Wells had to help Monty set up the radio for people to know what was happening. He remembered what Clarke told him. He and Monroe couldn't tell anyone what they knew. But Wells somehow had to find a way to tell the rest of the Ark that it was safe to come down to Earth and if they should see that peoples' screens had those red "X" things on them, they shouldn't be deterred. It was just Bellamy, a thug and a criminal who was trying to kill people on the Ark and didn't deserve to live. The rest of the Ark people should come down anyway.

But the question became what did they do afterwards? Clarke had said they'd go somewhere else after that. The three of them and the rest of the Ark people. Wells was fine with that. But where would they go? Wells knew that Clarke had a plan. She usually did even with the most minor stuff. And if Clarke had really gone through as much as she claimed to go through, then she knew what she was doing. She'd tell him when she wanted to tell him.

If Clarke said she knew what to do, then Wells believed her. He and Monty finished up what they were doing and he, Monty, Jasper, Monroe, Harper, Fox, Pascal and Trina all gasped, then let out loud woops of triumph when the radios went on and hummed to life. "No way!" Pascal yelled, grinning.

"Yes, way." Wells said, looking down at the machines happily. They had working radios now. Now for step two. Connecting the radio frequency of Octavia's wristband with the signal on the Ark.

"Now for the wristband." Wells said. Monty nodded, still smiling. He brought Octavia's wristband to the radio, putting it down on the top of the machine and started working on the mechanics of getting the machine to focus on a single frequency signature.

Wells stayed near the side of the machine, watching.

The next few minutes went by and without any real talking to preoccupy him, Wells thought about everything Monroe had told him. The Commander and Bellamy both betraying his best friend. Clarke had been backstabbed again and again. No wonder she was as jaded as she was. No wonder she was so untrusting now.

It made Wells heart hurt. And it made his blood boil. Clarke had sacrificed everything. And it all ended with a knife in her back over and over again. Wells didn't want to kill anyone. But he knew this. If there was even a chance that that thug, Bellamy tried anything to hurt his best friend, he'd kill the older man. First chance he got. And Wells wasn't sure he would feel any guilt over it. Why would anyone?

Wells knew that he meant it when he thought that too. If anyone, the Commander, the Commander's general, Anya, either of the Blake kids, or any other Grounder or Ark person tried to interfere with Clarke and what she was trying to do, he could kill them. For his best friend. For his sister. He thought about the guns they had.

Monroe was now up above ground, helping Harper and Pascal cook the deer. Jasper, Fox and Trina remained down here. Monroe had some of the weapons. The rest were down here. Wells wondered about something. So they found the weapons and they were hiding them from the rest of the 100. And based on what Monroe had told Wells, they'd need to keep these weapons away from everyone at camp. Everyone else was a monster. Wells thought he could be a better person and help everyone else, but from what Monroe told him? None of the others deserved help. The people on the Ark did. But not the 100. Not the Grounders. Not Charlotte and Murphy. Not Jasper. Not Octavia. And definitely not the Commander, Lexa and Bellamy Blake.

None of them deserved help. And Wells was sure that they wouldn't even accept help if they were given it. Monroe told him that was how it had been last time. The others just hadn't accepted his and Clarke's help. They had tried many times. And after Wells's death-(that thought would never stop being creepy to Wells), after Wells's death, Clarke had tried so many more times for her people. But they just hadn't cared. It led to either betrayal, or it led to uncaringness. Monroe told Wells about Jasper, Miller, Fox and the others in the mountain, they weren't willing to do anything for anyone except for themselves.

Wells was sure now that they deserved no help. Alright, so he was with Clarke's ruthless plan. They had to worry about them and only them and make sure that the rest of the Ark came down safely. Now how to do it. He looked at Monty and watched the other boy work away.

Aboveground, Monroe cooked the deer. When it was ready, she began to slice the animal up. Pascal had helped gather some wood and put it around the fire to help the flames. He had wanted to grab some herbs and mushrooms for the deer, but Monroe had asked him how he knew what was and wasn't poisonous. That had stopped Pascal fast. Monroe had a better idea of what was poisonous and what wasn't. But she wasn't going to let Pascal or anyone but Wells know that and know how she knew that.

Their survival would depend upon people not believing she and Clarke were better off in a padded cell. If any of those still existed.

Harper had gotten some knives from the storage of guns they found, cleaned it up with water and the soap root Wells had found for them and they burned the knives to burn off germs. Next they used some plants that Wells identified to make an alcoholic substance and wiped away any of the germs and rust that might have accumulated over time. It was unlikely that there would be any, since all of the blades had been kept in tightly sealed sheathes with barely any oxygen touching the blades.

They cut away pieces of the cooked deer.

They didn't have anything like plates. So they made do with small, smooth rocks. And pieces of thick bark. They'd cup the pieces of cooked meat on the bark or rocks and bring them down to the others. They found out quickly that deer was tough and not very rich. Monroe liked cooking. She found in the previous life that she had a knack and a joy for cooking. After the mountain and after Clarke had left, traumatized and the Ark people were electing new leaders, Monroe threw herself into two duties to try and forget that Clarke wasn't there, even though it haunted her the whole time that she never told Clarke how she felt. The two duties that Monroe threw herself into were training to be a better fighter and shooter. And to be a cook for her people.

Monroe prided herself in succeeding at both of these duties. She was a good fighter, as she found. A good shooter. And as it turned out, an exceptional cook.

It was an important thing to be when you didn't have artificially created food in front of you. So Monroe knew how to season and cook things almost perfectly. The problem was that Monroe knew from past experience, (that hadn't happened yet in this timeline), that venison took a long time to develop the fat in the meat that would make it tasty. And they didn't have enough time for that. So they'd have to make do with what they had.

Monroe watched Pascal bring another piece of meat down to the bunker where Wells, Jasper, Monty, Fox and Trina were. That would be the third hunk of meat brought down. Two more would be brought down for Jasper and Fox. Then Harper, Pascal and Monroe themselves could eat. Monroe looked at Harper who smiled at her. Monroe smiled back. But she was trying hard not to worry. All that time in the other timeline when Clarke had been gone after the mountain. Monroe had been terrified, even though she didn't allow anyone to see it. The whole time Clarke had been gone after the mountain, Monroe had needed distraction after distraction to keep herself from going out into the woods to look for Clarke.

She knew that no one would understand it. At the time, she hadn't understood it. Monroe had never been in love before. So she hadn't realized that that was what it was until she learned of Clarke's death. Monroe had made the decision when she learned of Clarke dying. Even if it was the last thing she did, she would kill Bellamy and Pike. She didn't know if she had succeeded. She didn't remember that. But she was back now and she could help protect Clarke. Monroe knew now that she was in love with Clarke. Had been for some time now. Monroe wasn't sure when it started. She just knew the second she realized what it was she had been feeling. When she learned of Clarke's death.

She remembered all the times she had felt unreasonably protective of Clarke. All the times when she had watched Clarke all over camp, her eyes never leaving the other girl. Like a falcon watching its prey run through the grass. Monroe thought about that and tried not to feel too creeped out by her thoughts. She wasn't that predatory when it came to Clarke, right? Sure, Monroe's fantasies had sometimes gone into very heated and dominant directions, but Monroe she'd never force Clarke into anything. Especially not after Clarke was betrayed last time.

No. Monroe would be loyal to Clarke. And part of that loyalty would be that Monroe would never make Clarke do anything she didn't give her permission to do. She wasn't going to be like the rest of the 100. She especially wasn't going to be like him. Monroe's insides turned. She wasn't going to be like Bellamy. She wasn't going to betray Clarke.

Monroe had realized that her feelings might become a problem in the last timeline when Monroe had seen Clarke with the Commander and the general Anya. At the time, Monroe had chalked it up to lust. Lust and nothing else but that. She hadn't realized it was love. She had figured she was attracted to Clarke and that was all. It wasn't the weirdest idea. Clarke was very attractive and Monroe had slept with other girls before on the Ark. She, Harper and Fox had sex a few times back at camp.

She wouldn't touch Harper and Fox now, out of loyalty to Clarke. But at the time, she did it. So it wouldn't be too weird, Monroe knew, if she was attracted to Clarke. But that wasn't all it was, and Monroe knew it now. When she saw how Lexa and Anya had looked at Clarke, Monroe remembered wanting to scream and kick something. She never remembered feeling that violent. Although she had at one time been even more so, when it came to Roma's stalker and some of the guards that pushed her around because she was an orphan. But that was it. She had never remembered feeling that violent. So when she questioned it, she realized that she might have a problem.

Then Clarke had disappeared after the mountain. Monroe never remembered feeling so lost since her father had started abusing her and telling her that her mom was a whore. Monroe didn't understand it for a long time. She blamed anyone she could for Clarke not being there. Clarke. The Commander. Anya. Bellamy. Herself. Abby Griffin. Anyone. But she hadn't understood how lost she felt. So she had thrown herself into the duties of training and cooking. Those duties were meaningful. For a lot of people in Arkadia and for her. But Monroe still hadn't understood her emotions. Not until Clarke returned. And not until Monroe heard that Clarke had died. Now she knew. And now she would do anything to keep Clarke safe.

Monroe smiled at Pascal when he got out of the bunker and went to the deer to get some meat for Jasper and Fox. This time, Monroe felt confident in what she was doing. If the people in this world, Sky people or Grounders wanted to try to hurt Clarke, they were going to have a hell of a fight before they could. Monroe turned to the woods where Clarke had followed that woman, "Niylah" into the forest, followed by Finn and Octavia. Her skin crawled. If anything happened to Clarke, Monroe would kill that woman.

Monroe was going to protect her woman, no matter what.

Back at the landing sight of the fallen, metal star, Onya stood with her warriors. They were concealed behind layers and rows of trees and bushes. She had been watching them not long since the moment they came down. She had felt the crash from the ground when the star fell. And she gathered her warriors to where the metal monstrosity on the ground. They watched the many young people come out of the ship, screaming and yelling and laughing happily. Onya didn't know what to make of these people. They didn't act like they were attacking. They were acting like they had never seen this place before.

Onya wondered if they were invaders who were supposed to report back to their people. But she wasn't sure.

She knew one of them, the blonde girl who was with the other ten people who left earlier was a great warrior and spoke like a leader. Onya hoped that it wouldn't come to fighting her, but if it did come to that, it would be an honor. The girl spoke of the many coming before the few. That was how a leader spoke. Onya knew that Heda would want to speak to that one. Onya would need to follow the eleven other peoples' trail later.

The other invaders were throwing silver metal bands off their arms and dropping them into heaps on the ground. There were piles of discarded wristbands on the ground that originally had been on these peoples' arms. These people would get them off by putting the blades of knives under the bands.

Onya heard her Seken, Tris whisper to her, "Fos! The messenger has returned." Onya turned to the young girl she had brought under her protection and tutelage and nodded. She sent Tris away with her closest warrior, Parto. Parto and Tris walked off. The other warriors backed away from the many trees and bushes when the messenger, Daylorn appeared, running quickly and almost soundlessly as his training demanded. Daylorn panted when he got to Onya, pulling his mask off, face red. His chest heaved and he gasped. He looked at Onya, bowing his head.

"General." He said in Trigedasleng, "Heda commands that you take control of your army and of Gostos's army. Gostos's army is at your disposal now, general. She commands that you capture all those that came out of that metal star. And you are to bring them to Polis to face the Commander. And there is to be no harm to any of these people. Not even a cut or a bruise."

Onya squinted. That was an unusual order. But she understood it. These people were not of the Mountain, even though they only spoke Gonasleng from what Onya observed. They were of no other tribe that Onya knew. So they knew nothing about these people. So risking a war with them before knowing anything about them was a wise decision on the Commander's part.

Onya smirked with pride at the decision on her former Seken's part. Onya nodded to the messenger. "I understand, Daylorn kom Trikru. Gostos's army is coming?"

Daylorn nodded. "Sha. Gostos's lieutenant, Redford is in the lead until you take command." Onya frowned. Redford was the one leading Gostos's army? Why?

"Gostos is not leading them?" Onya asked. That didn't make sense. "Where is Gostos?" Onya demanded Daylorn. Daylorn shook his head. "Heda ordered Gostos to give you full control of his army. And she sent Gostos to spy on the Mountain." Onya considered this. It was a strange idea at first, but then Onya realized it made sense. With these newcomers here, Heda wanted to make sure that they were in no way connected to the Mountain. And to make sure of that, Gostos, one of the Commander's most trusted generals besides the woman who had once been her teacher was being trusted to watch the Mountain to see if the Mountain tried to contact these newcomers.

Onya smirked, pleased by her former student's calculations. These were wise choices to make. Onya nodded. "Go, Daylorn. You have done well. I will meet with Redford as Heda commands."

Daylorn bowed his head and turned, running back, putting his mask back on. Onya looked onwards to the hills. There, she could see Redford at the top of one hill. Behind him were lines of muscled warriors. All of them trained and readied for battle. All of them previously answering to Gostos. Now they would answer to Onya. Onya watched these warriors silently march down the hill to them. Onya turned to the clearing where the metal star had dropped. Many of the young newcomers threw things around and wrestled each other, laughing carelessly. They were too foolish to be any real threat. But Heda was wise. And she knew that they had to make sure.

Onya nodded. And she would bring all of these Sky People to her Heda for Heda to decide herself. There had been eleven Sky People who had walked off. But Onya would follow their trail later and capture them and bring them to Heda too. But the many came first. The eleven would be captured later. Onya felt more than heard Redford's presence when he was at her back with Gostos's warriors. She spoke coldly and with no highness in her voice.

"Capture. Do not harm any of them. Capture all of them and bring them to Polis. To our Heda. Capture them and take them to our Commander."

The rush of warriors went forward at the fallen star and the newcomers. The newcomers had no time to prepare themselves and no chance of stopping the attackers from restraining them. All that followed was screaming and yelling and struggling, but no good came from it. All of the newcomers were eventually captured and their arms tied.

A firing weapon was found on one of the older newcomers. A man with black hair, glaring and spitting at them, calling them savages and his gun had been taken away from him easily and Onya had watched with amusement as his eyes grew large when he saw his little toy being claimed by the enemy.

Onya smirked from where she was. These newcomers would all be brought to Heda soon.

Almost halfway across that part of the land, back at the bunker where the renegade eleven sky people were, Monroe's grin almost split her face when she saw Clarke come out of the woods, Finn, Octavia and that Grounder woman still with her. It didn't bother Monroe that the woman was still with them, or that they had accumulated a lot of stuff. Clarke was here and that was all Monroe could care about right now.

"So we have a straggler." Octavia grumbled. Clarke half glared at Octavia. Monroe wanted to laugh at Octavia. Octavia was such a drama queen. If things weren't about her or about how much of a fuss she was making, then it deserved Octavia's snark. It was kind of self-absorbed. Monroe had grown sick of Octavia a long time ago. Even before this new timeline. Octavia had gotten a bunch of people killed in the acid fog during a fight. And Octavia didn't even sound like she regretted it that much. To be truthful, Octavia had started creeping Monroe out. Monroe started to suspect that there was something wrong with her. And after the three hundred warriors were killed in their sleep, Monroe started thinking that maybe between Octavia and Bellamy that it was a family thing. A DNA thing.

Maybe both Blake siblings were sick. It wouldn't surprise Monroe.

But Clarke was here. And this woman looked friendly. Monroe knew better than to assume everyone was what they appeared to be. But she hoped that this woman, Niylah was as nice as she seemed. Niylah walked behind Clarke Niylah put the bundle of things down. Octavia and Finn did the same.

"So," Monroe said, looking at Niylah, then at Clarke, "Why does this woman have all this stuff? And why is she here?"

Pascal and Harper both stared at Niylah in shock and wonder.

"Well," Clarke said, hesitating, knowing that this would be an odd answer. "She's coming with us. To wherever we go. She's coming."

Monroe stared at Clarke, shocked. "Seriously?" She asked. Pascal looked surprised, but Clarke was sure he was surprised for different reasons from Monore. "Coming with us?" He asked. "Back to camp?" Clarke tried not to snort in laugher at Pascal's naivety. To be fair, he had no way of knowing she was lying to him. Clarke knew Monroe was surprised, but Monroe was surprised for the right reason. Yes, Niylah was coming with them in exchange for the maps. And because she wanted to be with Clarke, weirdly enough. But Pascal thought that when Clarke said that, she meant that Niylah was coming with them to the dropship. No. No, Niylah was not coming with them to the fucking dropship.

And neither were Clarke, Monroe and Wells. Neither were Jasper, Monty, Harper or Fox, if Clarke could help it.

Clarke shrugged at Pascal. "Why not? She knows a lot about the ground. We didn't even know there were other people down here till we saw her. She could tell us a lot." That logic would make sense and Clarke had no intention of telling Pascal otherwise.

Pascal looked at Niylah skeptically, but nodded. "Okay." He said. "Maybe I should go downstairs and tell the others?"

Clarke nodded. "You do that." It wouldn't make much of a difference. Clarke would kill anyone that interfered who wasn't Wells.

Pascal went to the edge of the bunker and started going down the ladder.

Harper looked at Niylah with awe. Clarke smirked at Harper. "You've never seen someone like her before?" Harper shook her head. "Have you?" Clarke tried not to laugh. Yes, she had. But no need to tell anyone that. A Grounder could be startling for a Sky Person to look at. Harper didn't remember their encounters with Grounders, so for her, this was the first time.

Harper asked Clarke, "She's coming with us?"

Clarke nodded. "As soon we're done here and giving the message to the other people on the Ark, she's coming with us." Again, Clarke withheld information. No need for Harper to know that Niylah knew Clarke. Or that Clarke couldn't entirely care about the Ark, except to save lives. Or that Clarke knew way more than she should. And Harper certainly didn't need to know that Clarke wasn't planning on them going back to camp. No need for Harper to know that. Clarke was still trying to figure out how she was to trick them into not going back. But she'd figure it out.

"In the meantime," Clarke said, "Why don't we sit down and talk and have some food?" Clarke's smile worked, since Harper smiled back and nodded.

In the great capital of Polis, nothing prepared had Leksa for the disappointment she felt when she saw what was brought to her. Sky People, yes, but not one of them the Sky person that Leksa wanted to be brought to her. She learned that five of the Sky People were already dead. Two of them were found on the ship they came in. They died in the crash, Leksa suspected. No one said that, but Leksa suspected it. Three of the people that died was a very young girl and two young men. The girl had eaten some poisonous berries and died. Onya said she heard the girl be called "Charlotte." The other two boys' names, Onya didn't know. But they died the same way. From poisonous berries.

Onya had arrived too late to help the girl. The girl had been choking on her own tongue. So Onya put her out of her pain and misery. A knife to the throat was faster than the slow poisonous death of the berries.

But the rest of the Sky Children that were not Klark were here. She heard their names from the children and other children who called their names. None of them were Klark. The loud, but nervous "Romaa," the bad tempered and aggressive "Mofi," the tense and angry "Atam," and much to Leksa's displeasure, the murderous "Belomi." Leksa knew better than to act like she knew any of them. Most of them she did not know. So she knew that task would be easy enough. But for those that she did know, those like Belomi, who she loathed, it would be more difficult. But she would do it. She needed to know what they knew. She needed to know where Klark was.

Leksa turned to Onya, who stood by while her warriors and Gostos's warriors restrained the Sky People with ropes, many of the Sky Children gagged. "Onya," Leksa said, voice unfeeling, betraying nothing, "Are these all the Sky Children that came out of the star?"

Onya shook her head, a look of shame in her eyes. "No, Heda," She answered in Trigedasleng. "There were eleven more that left the camp. I didn't hear their names. But I saw enough to know that one of them would make a great warrior. She had light blonde hair, very light. And she took down a brown-haired girl like it was nothing. And she talked like a leader. She said that the good of the millions came before the needs of the few."

Leksa's heart skipped a beat. Klark. Klark. It had to be Klark. Unfortunately, from the way Onya was talking, it sounded like Onya didn't remember anything from before. But at least Leksa knew that Klark was here for sure. Someone who cared about the good of all over the good of a few? It was Klark. It had to be. And it didn't surprise Leksa that Klark was a good fighter. Even though Leksa had not had enough opportunity to see how Klark could fight, what Onya told her didn't surprise her. Leksa nodded.

She ordered in Trigedasleng, "Find them. Find this blonde girl and do not harm her. Bring her to me. Do not harm those with her. Bring them here too."

Onya nodded and bowed. She turned and walked out of the room, a few of her trusted warriors going with her.

Leksa turned to the captive Sky People. She did not need to think much about who the people were with Klark. Amongst this group of prisoners in front of her, she did not see Fin, Munroh or Oktevia. She did not know who else was with Klark, but she'd find out. She stared coldly at the supposed "leader" of this pitiful group. He was no leader. Belomi was weak. A liar and a murderer. And worse, a traitor.

Leksa stared at the glaring eyes of the gagged and restrained Belomi. She said in cold and unfeeling Trigedasleng to her warriors, "Put all of them except this one," She pointed at Belomi, "In their own rooms throughout the tower and the houses. As for him." She nodded to Belomi again. "Keep him in the dungeon. It's fitting for him." Leksa knew she was showing weakness. She was showing that she knew more about these people than she should. But Leksa knew this man betrayed Klark. He had killed three hundred of her warriors in their sleep and betrayed Klark. He was loyal to no one. He was a rabid dog that had to be chained up and beaten until kept under control.

And Leksa needed to keep him away from Klark. She needed to keep Klark safe from him.

The warriors dragged the many Sky people off. All of the "delinquents" struggled and yelled through their gags, but they could not break free. Leksa watched them be taken away. All of the other "one hundred" would be given their rooms and would be treated well. When Klark was brought here, she could see for herself how they were treated. She could see they were treated well and that the Trikru were reasonable beings.

Leksa watched Belomi be dragged away and felt a deep feeling of pleasure. It was weakness and it was risky if anyone knew why she was having him locked up in the dungeon, but she was enjoying knowing that Belomi would be in the dungeons for a good while before the real leader of the Skaikru was brought here. The traitor could enjoy the solitude, the cold floor, the disgusting food and the rats crawling around. It was all a murderer like him deserved. Leksa knew it was petty and it was a sign of weakness. But she did not care. She would subject that man to what he deserved and would keep Klark safe from him. Even if she had to commit the cruelest of actions.

She knew that Onya would succeed. Onya would bring their Klark back home.

In the bunker, the radio was properly hooked up by Monty and Wells and finally, they were getting a signal on the radio. Clarke smirked and met Monroe's eyes in the bunker when that happened. Monroe got the message. She nodded and said that Clarke should give the message without anyone's interference. Wells hadn't looked surprised and he and Fox and Harper had been the first to go up the ladder.

Niylah, watchful, had smirked and stayed above the bunker. Pascal, Trina and Jasper had followed the others out. Monroe made sure Finn went out, then watched Octavia. Octavia looked like she was going to start complaining again and Clarke looked at her and asked, "What is more important, Octavia? Millions of lives? Or a few?" With her cold and unflinching look, Clarke thankfully drove a pissed off Octavia away.

Clarke smirked and went to the radio while Monroe waited for Monty to follow Octavia. Monroe nodded to Clarke and followed Monty and Octavia up the ladder. When they were out of the bunker, Clarke turned to the radio and flipped the switch, using the frequency that Monty and Wells created.

She smiled at Octavia's opened wristband. Octavia had her uses after all. She spoke into the radio when she heard clearing begin between the bouts of static.

"Come in, Ark! Come in, Ark, this is Clarke Griffin, daughter of Abby and Jake Griffin. Come in, over!" Clarke snapped. She knew it probably wasn't the proper protocol thing to say, but Clarke had never tried contacting the Ark over the radio, except when Raven had done it last time. And by then, the Ark had gone out of a signal. But Clarke didn't care. It put the message across and the Ark people could do what they wanted with this information.

There was a shriek of static, making Clarke wince. Then after a few seconds, there was an interruption. A click, then a shocked voice that Clarke almost recognized. "Clarke?" The voice that Clarke was sure belonged to Sinclair came over the line. "Clarke?" Sinclair asked, not believing what he was hearing, apparently, "Clarke, is that you? You're alright?" 

Clarke chuckled and grinned, speaking into the radio, "I'm not sure I'd say I'm alright. I'm not injured and I'm alive. But that's about it. Listen, Sinclair, because we don't have time to chitchat. I need you to send me through to Kane, my mother, Callie and anyone else who is on the council. I know Jaha is in critical care. But get everyone else. Immediately."

There was a pause and then Sinclair answered, "Understood. I'll be right back. Clarke? It's good to hear that you're alive." 

Clarke chuckled, thinking about how she had died and had ended up here right now. She said, "Trust me, I feel the same way." There was silence on the other end and Clarke heard nothing for a while. Then after a few minutes, she heard another click. She looked at the radio and waited. She almost growled when she heard the voice on the other end. This time she really DID recognize the voice.

It was Abby Griffin. "Clarke?" Abby's voice came out through the speaker, "Baby? Are you alright?" 

Clarke snorted, "Give it a rest, mom. I'm fine. And don't talk, okay? Just listen. Is everyone on the other end? Are Callie and Kane there too?"

After a pause, a startled Abby said quietly, "Yes, they're here. Why? Clarke-" 

Clarke cut her off, "Shut it. You and everyone else on the Ark need to come down. Trust me, people can survive down here. And don't pay any attention to the screens that say that people are dying, okay? No one's died except for a couple of kids that took their seatbelts off on the dropship."

There was a silence, then Abby said again, "Clarke, what are you talking about? There are so many screens that have been deactivated. There are so many that are dead on the ground. What is going on down there if people can survive?" 

Clarke sighed. So it really was happening like she knew it would. It looked like the older Blake sibling wasted no time in being a waste of life. She spoke in a firm and calm voice, checking the entrance of the bunker and made sure no one was there.

"Mom, listen to me now. I need you to listen to me." She made sure her voice left no room for argument, "There is no one dying down here. The wristbands? They're being taken off. By force. There's a murderer down here named Bellamy Blake. He's the one taking the wristbands off. He was the one that shot Thelonius Jaha. And he's the one making the screens up on the Ark go blank. No one has died. It's just that Bellamy has taken off the wristbands. I got away from him and so did Wells. We found a radio. So whatever you do? Don't believe the screens. No one has died down here. There are people down here. Groups of people. Villages. I've seen them. This is very important to remember, I need you and everyone else to direct the Ark to South America."

Clarke knew she was giving Abby, Kane, Callie and Sinclair a lot of confusing information. But they needed to know. Clarke checked the entrance of the bunker. Still, no one was there. Hopefully Monroe, Wells and Niylah were keeping people preoccupied. She spoke into the radio before anyone could interrupt her.

"Do you guys hear me?" She asked, "The Ark needs to come down to what used to be South America. Understand me? There are people that live in North America already. And we don't want to start a war. Go to South America. I don't think anyone's there. Drive the Ark to South America." She added, voice acidic, "Kane!"

She could almost hear Kane shake over the radio. Clarke continued, "I don't care how important you THINK you are. Nothing's more important than the survival of everyone on the Ark. They won't survive in North America. There are villages of warriors here. I've seen them. We'll be safer in South America. There are too many murderous Grounders here. They'll kill us first chance they get. South America is safer for us. Go there. Kane, I know you only care about yourself and your authority. But if you ever loved anyone on the Ark, then get them to South America. You are in charge with Jaha hospitalized. If he makes a recovery, tell him what I told you. GO. TO. SOUTH. AMERICA."

She took a breath, not caring how she sounded. She looked at the entrance to the bunker. She heard mumbling from it, but saw no one. She turned back to the radio when she heard her mother's shocked mumble, "Clarke….."

"Don't 'Clarke' me, mom." Clarke growled. "We don't have time for this. Bellamy Blake shot Thelonius Jaha. And now to save only his own life, he's getting rid of the other delinquents' wristbands. Don't believe the screens. Everyone is still alive down here. So don't listen to the screens. The air is breathable. There is food you can eat and water you can drink. Kane, I don't give a fuck about your authority. I'm ordering this. If you want your people on the Ark to survive, get them down here. They can survive on the ground, but only if they go to South America."

Clarke added before anyone else could say anything, "And don't fucking argue with me. If I find out you landed in North America, I'll kill you myself. And mom? It would be easy for me to do that to you. Given you got dad killed." She heard a gasp on the other end. She smirked. It was petty, but at least now they knew she meant business.

She heard her mother try to reason, "Clarke, please…I…I just did what I thought was-"

"Oh, save it." Clarke snorted. "We both know you're a traitor to your family. So stuff it, Abby. If you want me to even START to trust you again, mom? Get the rest of the Ark down to South America. If you don't land in South America where everyone will be safe? None of you have any use to me. And I have no interest in reconnecting with you, Abby. Your only ticket to my forgiveness is getting everyone on the Ark down to South America. That's final."

She then snapped at Kane, "Kane, you hear me now, you worthless pig. Stop rubbing off on your power and get your head out of your ass. The people on the Ark are more important than your authority. Get everyone down to South America instead of North America. Because if anyone from the Ark lands in North America? Then Kane, I've got news for you, you've killed everyone on the Ark. And one more thing? Don't go to Mount Weather. There are people that will kill us for our bone marrow. They can't go above ground or they'll die from the air. They will take your bone marrow and kill you. So don't go to Mount Weather. I know this because I heard Grounders, people who were born on Earth talk about it."

A lot of what Clarke was saying was a lie. But she couldn't tell them she had done this before, could she? She snapped into the radio, not letting anyone get a word in, "I fucking mean it. Get down to South America. Stay away from Mount Weather and stay away from North America. It's dangerous there for us. Me and some others are getting away from Bellamy's band of murderers and we're going to get to South America and join you. Let us know when you get there. Oh, and get Raven Reyes. She's a mechanic. She's the best mechanic around. She will help you. Ask her to help. She has a reason to help us. Her boyfriend, Finn is down here. Oh, and mom? Try not to get the best mechanic you have killed this time."

She didn't bother to hear their response. She turned off the radio and got up, going to the ladder and climbed up it. She had done what she needed to do. She had warned them about what Bellamy was doing and she had warned them about the Grounders and the Mountain Men. After that? There really wasn't anything she could do. Whatever they did now? That was up to them. They were responsible for if they survived or were too stupid to listen to her.

Clarke got to the top of the bunker, seeing Monroe stay by the entrance. She smiled in relief that Monroe was the only one that had heard. She got up out of the bunker. It was incredibly jaded and cold, but she had done everything she could and told her people everything she could. If they didn't listen to her, what else could she do for them?

That was part of Clarke's lessons, she realized. She had learned after the last time, if people didn't do anything to help themselves, despite your best efforts, could you really do anything for them?

Clarke had learned this from Octavia, from Bellamy, from Miller, from Jasper, from the rest of the useless 100.

There was no point in helping those that didn't want help. And she now knew this too well. And now, if the rest of the Ark people didn't put an effort into saving themselves and listen to Clarke, was there really anything she could do for them besides what she had already done?

And if there wasn't, there wasn't much point in her worrying about them and moping about what she couldn't stop, was there?

Clarke got up out of the bunker and looked at the smirking Monroe. "Heard all that, did you?" She asked, interested.

Monroe shrugged. "Wanted to know how you were gonna handle Kane's tight ass. I know he got better before. But you know, we can't wait for that, can we?"

Clarke shook her head. "No. We can't." She looked at the rest of the group. Octavia was staring at Niylah's weapons and was holding the machete that Niylah apparently trusted her with. Clarke stared without amusement at the scene. Obviously Niylah didn't know Octavia very well. Octavia was dangerous as soon as she got her hands on a knife. And she wasn't dangerous for the good reasons. She was dangerous because it was like a wild dog playing with a hose of gasoline.

Octavia was stupid, rash and violent. Clarke didn't want the younger girl with them. If she could help it. She watched Finn and Wells. Wells looked like he was holding Finn back from approaching them. And Pascal, Trina, Fox, Harper, Jasper and Monty were looking at Niylah in curiosity. Clarke had a feeling that Jasper's flirting was going to start soon. Boy, would he be barking up the wrong tree. Niylah made it very clear to Clarke in the other time that she was only interested in women. And if Niylah was telling the truth now, she was interested in one woman in particular.

Clarke turned to Monroe, keeping her voice down, "We need to get rid of Octavia. She's too dangerous. She's violent and bad tempered. And she's Bellamy's sister. We can't trust her. She might want to come with us. But she'll eventually want to come back to her brother."

Clarke added dryly, "Not to mention she's basically unstable."

Monroe chuckled. "You noticed that too?"

Clarke nodded. "Hard to miss, you know?"

Monroe grinned. "So what do we do about her?"

Clarke shrugged. "Kill her?"

Monroe looked startled. But she nodded. "If we need to. We could just strand her in the forest. Same thing as killing her, I guess. What about Pascal, Trina and the others?"

Clarke shrugged. "I don't remember anything about Pascal and Trina. I think they died really early. Hopefully we can get them away from the others. But if we have to, we leave them too. Jasper? I'm thinking he might be a problem later on."

Monroe narrowed her eyebrows. "Why would you say that?" Jasper had been traumatized after getting a spear to his chest. And he had been terrified of everything after that. But besides that? Monroe couldn't think of what brought Clarke's distrust to Jasper.

Clarke answered her, "The mountain." Monroe sighed, nodding. Oh. Right. Jasper had been one of the people in the Mountain. And he didn't help Clarke. He trusted the Mountain Men fast and snubbed Clarke when she was distrusting of the people that gave them cake. Monroe looked at the group and thought about this. Maybe Jasper would be a problem. Jasper, Miller and all those that had been in the mountain? Maybe they just couldn't be trusted. It was sad, but Monroe trusted Clarke and didn't trust Jasper and the others.

Monroe nodded to Clarke. "Anything you say, Clarke." Clarke looked surprised at Monroe. At Monroe's small smile, Clarke nodded, relieved. Monroe kept watching Clarke, as she used to. Monroe thought of a lyric from one musical she remembered seeing a recording of on the Ark. It was a recording on an IPad that Monroe found and the musical had been "Phantom of the Opera." The lyric that came to mind was from the song, "All I Ask of you." The lyric was, "Anywhere you go, let me go too. Christine, that's all I ask of you."

It was a cheesy line. It was a cheesy song and it was cheesy to compare her situation to that much devotion. But Monroe had nothing else to compare it to. She had never watched any romantic film or TV show or musical. Few songs from "Phantom of the Opera" that she saw on a stolen IPad when she was stealing with her fellow orphans on the Ark was her only experience with intense, romantic passion. She knew from criticisms she read of the musical that it hadn't been an ideal story about romance. It was a story about how abusive and toxic the phantom was. But the writer of the musical had made it into something romantic. Monroe had a feeling that just meant that the writer hadn't been such a good person, but she never looked that much into it. Not much point of it now? Everyone before the bombs were dead now.

But the point of that lyric was understood by Monroe. It was devotion. It was like one of those books that Monroe read. Yes, Monroe knew how to read. It was one of the things that none of the 100 cared to know about. She had learned how to read on the Ark before she came down. And read as much as she wanted whenever there were books around.

So Monroe was familiar with a little romantic literature. "Pride and Prejudice," "Sense and Sensibility," they both gave her an idea of how the very old world saw romance. And how men tended to be held up as if they were better than human. It made her creeped out when she read it. It wasn't just that Monroe learned from an early age that she was attracted to girls. It was that people actually expected women to sacrifice everything for their husbands. All for someone just because a person had a penis. And people just went with it.

It was really creepy. Monroe couldn't think of a better word for it. Creepy sounded about right.

Monroe had read another book that was a little different from the other two books. It was called "Jane Eyre." She didn't know what to make of it. But the man that Jane fell in love with made her uncomfortable. He was a liar. Monroe just didn't like him. She hadn't thought much on the love interests in the other books. She thought Mr. Darcy was funny and was an actual decent man. She actually liked him. And she even kind of found Edward from "Sense and Sensibility" awkwardly cute. But that was it. But Rochester made her uncomfortable. Then there was the ugly truth about Bertha. Kept a secret like a man couldn't bear something so horrible as being "shamed" over being associated with a madwoman. Rochester was an asshole. She turned to Clarke, thinking.

Clarke? She deserve so much more than the romance that the heteronormative society of the Ark wanted of her. She deserved more. Better. She deserved more than to be always expected to be the martyr for other people. Monroe could be better than Rochester. She knew that there had been something between Clarke and Anya, the general and Lexa, the Commander. She didn't know how deep or involved it had been. But since Clarke didn't show any care about the Commander now, Monroe knew that Clarke could do better and deserved it. Monroe wouldn't ask anything of Clarke. She wouldn't ask that Clarke feel anything for her. She expected nothing like that. She just wanted to be at Clarke's side.


	7. A bloody hunt leads to a friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As said in the chapter before, adding a lot to Monroe. Monroe was kind of a blank slate, save for being loyal and brave. So the way I figure it, you can attach any personality and attributes you want to her.

A bloody hunt leads to a friend

Clarke had given the warning to the council. It was time to see where the pieces fell. She hoped her people listened to her. But given past experiences that hadn't happened yet, Clarke had doubts. She knew that Monroe did too. She knew better than to put too much faith in the council. Her mother, Kane and the others? They were all arrogant and stupid. Callie was the only one of them that had any decency or sense. But Clarke doubted that Callie alone could get the whole council to listen. Clarke sighed. She missed Callie. She realized she missed Callie more than she missed her mother.

There was a difference between Callie and Abby. One of them was reasonable. The other was not.

Clarke looked at Monroe. "Monroe, I have a question." Clarke said, thinking about the foolish choices that the council made and the idiotic choices she had made in the previous timeline by trusting all four Octavia, Bellamy, Anya and Lexa. Monroe looked at Clarke.

"Yeah?" Monroe asked.

Clarke sighed, hugging the gun close. "What if we were on the council instead of my mom, Jaha and Kane? Let's say it was you, me, Wells, Harper, Raven and Monty instead. What do you think would have happened?"

Monroe lifted her eyebrows. "Are we planning or is this all theoretical?"

Clarke chuckled, "Theoretical. I have no plans for taking anything over. Just survival. Theoretically, what do you think would have happened?"

Monroe shrugged. "Don't know. I'm guessing we would have been better off. But we wouldn't be the only ones going for power. Think about Octavia and Bellamy." Monroe nodded at Octavia. "Do you think they'd leave a chance to grab for power alone?"

Clarke groaned and shook her head. "Yeah. They wouldn't. And if they were a part of the council, things would fall apart all over again. That's why we can't trust them. Neither of them should be given any power."

Monroe nodded. "I agree. But again, how do we ditch Octavia?" Clarke nodded. "We'll think of something. Jasper might not be expendable because of Monty. But we need to get rid of Octavia. Finn too if he's too much of a problem."

Monroe answered softly. "We can leave Octavia in the forest. I can create a distraction for the others and lead them away. Or we can leave her while she's sleeping." Monroe added, leaning next to Clarke. "You know, if we leave Octavia to die in the woods, we can't ever go back to camp. Because you just know that you-know-who will kill us for leaving her."

Clarke snorted, smirking. She knew what Monroe meant. It was almost funny to imagine what reaction they'd get from the sociopathic Bellamy. But they couldn't risk it. They could not return to camp.

Clarke shook her head. "I'm not planning for us to go back to camp anyway. There's no going back from here. This is a one-way trip from here to South America. So no going back to the dropship."

Monroe nodded. "Alright then. I guess we won't have to worry. We can just leave Octavia here. Maybe Lincoln will find her and she'll be alright."

Clarke chuckled. "Octavia's the type that wouldn't appreciate the help unless it was all about her." She added, "You sure that Octavia was into me? I don't think Octavia has that much depth to really see beyond her anger."

Monroe gave Clarke another nod. "I think so. She only started chasing after Lincoln when she found out that you and Finn slept together. And she was really upset when you did that. So she started fucking Lincoln." Clarke chuckled. It was a little hard to believe that Octavia had seen anything beyond her pride. But if Monroe insisted. Octavia's possible interest in her, didn't get Clarke to change her mind about leaving Octavia to die.

Finn had been interested in her and still almost got them killed when killed a few people in a village. Lexa and Anya had been interested in Clarke and still had left her and her people to die at the mountain. Romance and sexual interest meant nothing in the face of possible peace and survival.

"Doesn't matter." Clarke said, not looking at Monroe, just staring coldly at the group sitting around the fire and the cooked deer. "Doesn't matter if Octavia has the hots for me. She's a danger to peace and our people surviving. She will interfere with us going to South America. She'll want to head back to camp to her brother. Or worse, bring the others and Bellamy with us. We can't risk that. Octavia needs to go."

Monroe nodded. "I wasn't gonna argue. But you asked." She added, "If we really want to kill Octavia, didn't you say there was a giant gorilla running around these parts?"

Clarke's body shook at Monroe's suggestion and Monroe looked at Clarke, smirking when she saw that Clarke was trying not to laugh. Monroe grinned. It was small. It was tiny. But Monroe was glad she got that kind of reaction from Clarke. Even if the laugh had nothing to do with Monroe entirely, she still got that reaction. Clarke smirked at Monroe. "The Pauna? A gorilla? Really? You want me to give Octavia to the pauna?"

Monroe smirked. "Just a thought. And the pauna is what the Grounders call a gorilla?"

Clarke nodded. "Yeah. The huge gorilla that lives in this area? They call it the pauna. And to answer your suggestion, I don't know if that's a good idea." Clarke's face became serious. "That thing ripped Byrne's arm off and killed her. Sure, we could get away before it gets us. But there's no guarantee. After it rips Octavia apart, it'll come after us soon."

Monroe nodded, feeling sick at the description of what the gorilla had done to that guard Byrne. Right. So maybe leaving Octavia to the gorilla that wanted to kill them wasn't such a good idea. Octavia might get ripped apart, but the rest of them might get ripped apart too. So never mind.

She looked at the group and saw Wells walking over. "Incoming." She said. Clarke nodded. Wells got to them and said, looking disturbed, occasionally looking behind at the group around the fire, seeing Niylah smiling, but not talking much. "Clarke, do you know who that woman is? Really?" Clarke nodded. "Yeah. Niylah. She trades. And I traded with her for survival after I left everyone after the Mountain. Monroe told you about that, right?" Clarke looked at Wells and he nodded. Clarke wasn't sure how Wells felt about what happened at the mountain. But Wells answered, "That woman helped you after you went through that?" Wells gave Clarke a sad, careful look.

Clarke answered, "Yes, she did." She wasn't going to mention what else she and Niylah had done together. But she would tell Wells and Monroe what they needed to know. Wells smiled, his brown eyes saddened, "If she helped you through some of what you went through? Then I'm good with her being here. She can come with us." Clarke smiled at Wells. "Thanks, Wells."

Monroe looked at Clarke curiously. "How did she help?" Monroe frowned when she saw how Clarke tensed for a second.

"She kind of gave me a safe place to go to while I was gone." Clarke answered and Monroe noticed her voice was tense too. "I traded things with her. Food. Water. Medicine. Furs to keep warm." Something about the last thing Clarke said made her tense again and Monroe saw a tinge of pink come to Clarke's cheeks. It was beginning to get dark, but not entirely yet, and light was offered by the camp fire. So there was still enough light for Monroe to see that Clarke's cheeks were pink for a second.

Monroe's eyes narrowed. Something sharp hit her. She might not have been the best at picking things up socially. But she knew what embarrassment looked like. Harper, Monty, Fox and Jasper showed it a lot when they flirted or were embarrassed about something.

Monroe turned and looked at Niylah, remembering how the older woman had been looking at Clarke since she got here. Her teeth clenched and her blood felt hot. Had Clarke and Niylah actually-?

Clarke added, "And Niylah remembers. She wants to come with us. She won't say anything."

Monroe looked at Wells, still angry, when she heard Wells say, "That's good. That she was there for you. I'm glad. And it's probably good that she remembers if she can help us. So the three of us and Niylah will be going together?" Clarke nodded. "Yes. And Fox, Harper, Monty, Pascal and Trina. Finn and Jasper if we can as well. They all are coming." She added, "Only Octavia is the problem."

Wells nodded. "Well, what do we do about her?"

Clarke shrugged. "We could just kill her in her sleep." Wells's eyes widened and when he looked at Monroe, she shrugged. She didn't want to give her jealousy away. So she just shrugged. It wasn't like Monroe hadn't felt jealousy when it came to Clarke before. When she found out that Finn and Clarke were sleeping together in the other timeline, she had felt it. She just didn't know what it was. She knew what it was now. It felt the same way now as it did then. When Monroe saw how Lexa and Anya had been looking at Clarke, she felt it then too.

She had been jealous. And she was jealous now. She took a breath, knowing she had to keep herself from being obvious to Clarke and Wells. She said in a controlled voice, "Octavia might endanger us, Jaha. If she tries to get us back to camp, she could get us killed from Grounder attacks or because of something stupid that Bellamy does. We can't risk Octavia being around."

Wells looked torn, but nodded. Monroe glanced at Clarke and saw how startled the blonde was. Wells smiled at Clarke and said, "Clarke, Monroe told me what happened. You went through so much to help everyone. And it was for nothing. So if," He looked back to see if anyone was approaching. No one was. "If Octavia needs killing, then I'm for it."

Clarke stared at her brother, shocked. "Wells," She said, "...Are you sure you're alright with this? I'm asking you to help me kill someone else. Another human being."

Wells nodded, a look of disgust crossing his face, "Another human being who didn't help when it was needed and who cut you down every time things didn't go her way."

Clarke looked at her lifelong friend and saw the seriousness in his eyes. She then slowly nodded, smiling. "Thank you, brother." She said. Wells grinned. Monroe could see that this was a lot for Wells to accept. A different timeline and accepting that sometimes you had to commit murder to make sure everyone else survived. But Wells was accepting it. That was good. They needed people on their side. As many people as they could get. And how many people would believe that their timeline had been restarted?

Clarke nodded to the fire. "Maybe we should go over there before they get suspicious about why we're not talking to them."

"Good idea." Monroe said, trying to keep the anger out of her voice. Clarke didn't look like she noticed. Neither did Wells. Monroe wanted to get a good look at Niylah. Some part of her wanted to beat the crap out of the older woman. Sure, she knew that the older woman could probably break all her ribs and her back. But Monroe would be damned if she didn't still want to try it.

But more importantly? She wanted to see if Niylah was good for Clarke. If Niylah did anything to hurt Clarke, Monroe couldn't care less if Niylah was stronger than her. Monroe would kill her.

The three of them walked over to the fire and sat down on the logs that Pascal and Monroe had dragged over. Clarke sat between Wells and Monroe, across from Niylah. Monroe stared at the older woman. The older woman paid no attention to Octavia who was swinging the machete around by a tree. She only was staring at Clarke with affection.

Monroe saw this and sighed. She nodded. She could see the warmth and love in Niylah's eyes. Her anger, while still there, dimmed. If Niylah really loved Clarke as Clarke deserved to be loved, then Monroe wouldn't say or do anything. For Clarke, she'd be quiet. Monroe glanced up at Octavia. A plan started to form. There was a way of getting rid of the dead weight. It was underhanded, but it would work. She could bring Finn, Pascal, Trina, Fox and Harper out to search for food and water in the morning.

Monty and Wells could be told to stay with the radios. And while that was happening and Monty was busy, Niylah and Clarke could kill Octavia in her sleep. They could leave her body with a slash across her throat and no one would know who did it.

Monroe glanced at Clarke. She hoped Clarke approved.

Throughout the night, they talked. Niylah never revealed anything, much to Clarke's relief. She just acted like she always wanted to see the world. And she was taking this opportunity now to go with people who were traveling, to see the world. She told them about her father being a trader and teaching her how to trade. She told them about the Mountain Men who stole people and made them into monsters. Clarke could tell that Wells showed no surprise, since Monroe had already told him. But Octavia, Finn, Pascal, Trina, Monty, Fox, Jasper and Harper acted as surprised as they should be.

Clarke contemplated the possibility of the others being able to be told the rest for only a second. She didn't think about it ever again after that. No. Telling them everything would be too dangerous. They were too stupid to be able to handle "everything." Jasper, Finn and Octavia especially. So that wouldn't be a good idea.

Pascal looked like he was going to be sick when Niylah talked about what the Mountain Men made of Grounders. The cannibalism that took place made him look like he was going to faint. Trina held onto his hand, squeezing it to make him feel better. He looked at her and smiled gratefully and nodded.

The hours went by and Clarke knew they needed to get somewhere and hide for the night. Even if they weren't being looked for by now, which they probably would be, by the Grounders who caught their trail, there would be wild animals out hunting for them.

They had to go to a safe place to hide. Luckily, they had a place available already. The bunker with the radios.

When the only light left for them was the large hot flames, Clarke looked around the forest, the hair on the back of her neck rising. She knew that they were being watched. If it was by animals, she didn't know. If it was by humans, she didn't know. But it didn't make a difference. Not right now. It would make a difference in the morning. But right now they needed to get below the ground. Where they could rest without a threat of death hanging over them.

They waited another hour, with Octavia prodding at Niylah with the usual blunt questions of what the other Grounders were like. Asking what happened to Niylah's mother since Niylah had only mentioned her father. Clarke was about to tell Octavia to shove it, when Niylah had bluntly said to the stupid girl that her mother was taken by the mountain and killed. That had shut Octavia up quickly, much to Clarke's pleasure.

Clarke spoke loudly enough for everyone in the circle to hear that they should go into the bunker and stay there for the night. Since Niylah was here, there were most likely a lot of other Grounders in the area. Maybe some of them were watching. Clarke knew that the Grounders had their eyes on them already. But there was no need to tell everyone else that. There was too much risk of the others freaking out and causing a panic.

So Clarke just gave the suggestion that they were being watched. Either by animals or by other Grounders. It got the frightened looks Clarke was expecting, except from Monroe and Niylah. Eventually, Clarke put out the fire with Monroe, using water and soil to smother the fire. Clarke said calmly, "We should got to the bunker. Unless that is, we want to get eaten or ripped apart by Grounders?"

Her suggestion worked. Jasper, Harper, Fox and Monty were the first to get to the entrance of the bunker. Trina followed. Finn and Pascal held back, wanting to make sure everyone was going in. Wells, Niylah and Monroe stayed by Clarke's side, helping her take down the rest of the deer to the bunker. Finn and Pascal grabbed the thin, metal top of the bunker and pulled it over the hole in the ground. When they were all inside and the deer was on the floor, they settled in. Niylah gave a few of the furs she had packed away to the others in the group.

One of the furs pulled out was given to Monty and Jasper. The other was given to Harper and Fox. Pascal and Trina were given one. The last two furs were looked at by the only six that hadn't made the decision about where they were sleeping yet. Clarke grumbled, rolling her eyes that she'd let the others take the blankets and that she could sleep on her own on her side without one. It wasn't a lie. She had spent enough time out on her own without anything to cover her. After the mountain she had taken to sleeping on the ground or even in the trees. She knew how to sleep without feeling a warm blanket on her. These spoiled kids, minus Monroe and Niylah, wouldn't have any idea how to do that. Even Octavia who one would think knew what sleeping without a blanket was like and would know how to do that. But Octavia was an entitled little princess. There was no reason to think that she would ever know how to be self-sufficient without bullying someone else around.

When Clarke was about to lie down and wrap her arms around herself, the gun next to her with the safety on, she felt a fur blanket be dropped down on her. Startled, Clarke looked up. Niylah was above her, applying the fur blanket to her body. Niylah smiled. Clarke smiled back, nodding in thanks. She looked at her. "Would you like to lie down next to me, Niylah?"

Niylah nodded, a hopeful look on her face. The look made Clarke's heart skip a beat. Niylah stepped back as Clarke sat up. Clarke looked at the others who were watching. Finn and Octavia both looked jealous. Monroe's eyes were watching Monty and Jasper and Clarke noticed that Monroe's frame was very tense. She wondered what that was about. Wells was watching the two of them cautiously.

Octavia scowled at the two of them. Clarke was very glad that Niylah had reclaimed her machete from Octavia.

"Who's sleeping next to Finn?" Octavia asked loudly, obnoxiously. She went closer to Finn and rubbed herself against him, her eyes never went off of Clarke. Clarke frowned, now thinking that maybe Monroe was right. But that didn't matter. Octavia was still Octavia. She was a waste. A danger to all of them. It didn't matter that she might be attracted to Clarke. Octavia was a danger.

Clarke said to Niylah, looking at the older woman, "Is it okay if Wells sleeps next to us?"

Clarke knew that Niylah probably had wanted the two of them to sleep next to each other. But Clarke couldn't leave her sweet brother to having to sleep next to Octavia of all people. Talk about a harsh punishment. It would only be harsher if Bellamy of all people were here. Niylah turned around and looked at the surprised Wells. Niylah turned back around and if the older woman was disappointed by Clarke's decision, Niylah didn't show it. She nodded and moved away for Wells to lie down too, looking at the dark-skinned youth.

"Wells." Clarke said, nodded at the space next to her, behind her. Wells smiled and walked over, lying down on the hard floor of the bunker next to Clarke, wrapping his arm over Clarke's back. Clarke smiled at him. She turned to Niylah and patted the space next to her. Niylah looked at Clarke and nodded. Again, she didn't look to be angry, jealous or even annoyed that she didn't get to be next to Clarke only. She was calm. She lay down on the floor next to Clarke and pulled the fur over herself, Clarke and Wells.

Clarke looked over at Monroe, Finn and Octavia to see how they were taking this.

Monroe nodded, not making it obvious how she felt about it, and she took the fur from the startled Octavia. Octavia then gave Clarke a resentful glare and followed Monroe. Finn followed both of them. Monroe sat down on the floor and let Finn sit next to her. Octavia sat next to him. Monroe pulled the layer of fur over them and she reached up, going for the light switch. "Should I turn out the light?" Monroe asked, looking at Clarke.

Clarke nodded. "Sure. Thanks, Monroe." Clarke said to the other girl. Monroe nodded and turned out the light.

The bunker went black. Clarke felt Wells hug her close. She felt Niylah press her chest against Clarke's back. Clarke tried not to laugh. She was being sandwiched between her brother and a woman who was in love with her. This wasn't awkward at all, was it?

It didn't help that somewhere during the night, Clarke could swear she heard Octavia tauntingly say that Finn was pressing hard against her ass. Clarke tried not to release a groan in the dark. This was going to be a very long and annoying night. Her irritation was softened when she felt Niylah turn at some point and lean forward, kissing her forehead. Clarke gasped quietly and she could almost feel Niylah's smile in the dark. She felt the older woman lean down and encase her in her arms. Niylah's mouth was just an inch from Clarke's right ear when Clarke heard Niylah whisper, "Ai hod in nu, Klark."

Clarke's heart raced when she heard those words. She knew what they meant. After leaving her people after the mountain in the other timeline, Clarke had picked up Trigadesleng. And she heard those words given enough times when she saw people she knew to be lovers in Polis, to know what those words meant. True, Niylah had told Clarke that she loved her before. But to hear Niylah say those words in her native language, that was something else.

Clarke wanted to believe the older woman loved her. She wanted to trust Niylah. But it hurt to think about trusting her. She wasn't sure she had the courage to trust another person after what both Lexa and Bellamy had done to her. She wasn't sure she could risk it.

Clarke rested her head against Niylah's arm, closing her eyes. Again, she could almost feel Niylah's smile in the dark. She was sure that Niylah's smile was bigger now. But she wouldn't try to look. Clarke's heart hurt as she thought about the possibility of Niylah loving her and really being worthy of trust. Clarke didn't want to risk it. But if Niylah really could love Clarke like she said she did, then wouldn't it be worth the risk?

And Clarke knew that she didn't care anymore about her people the same way she did in the other timeline. So what would be the real loss if she was proven wrong? The only real loss would be her heart breaking again. And for that…Clarke had a remedy. A bullet to someone's head. Clarke wasn't sure she could kill Niylah. But she'd do something destructive.

Lexa and Anya were going to wage war against Clarke's people one way or another. Clarke might as well live it up with Niylah while she could. The consequences of what happened to her ungrateful, stupid people be damned.

In the capital of Polis, Leksa was not pleased when Onya and her warriors returned empty-handed. No Klark. Or the other ten that were with her. Leksa wondered why. How far had Klark and her group gone? It was when Leksa realized that she needed to stop thinking of what was happening as just having happened. She needed to think about things that happened before.

Had Klark gone off with her people before when they had first come down? And how long did it take before she returned to her camp? Leksa remembered her scouts from the river near the mountain. They had seen people, one of them matching Klark's description near the mountain. One of the people with Klark had been a boy with strange things on his head. He had crossed the river and had been hit with a spear. Had Klark and these other ten gone to the river together? A short breath came out of Leksa. Was Klark in danger? No. The last time only one of them had been hit by the spear, and it hadn't been Klark.

As long as Klark was safe, Leksa did not care who was hit by the spear. She just hoped Klark was willing to listen to reasoning after it happened. She thought about what the scouts had told her last time. She frowned. The number was wrong. Wasn't it?

The last time, the report had been Klark, with four other people. Five of them had walked off. But now the report was that it was Klark and ten other people? That was a large change. She considered this. It couldn't be another group of people from the 100. Because Leksa had counted. She had all of the 100, except for eleven of them locked up. So why the change?

Leksa's heart raced. Could…..was it possible that Klark remembered?

Leksa got up from her throne, sure that her appearance for once was not as controlled as it usually was. She walked down the steps and went across the room to Onya. "Onya," Leksa said, eyes locked with the eyes of her former teacher. "I will accompany you to your lands and find these eleven Sky children ourselves." Onya's eyes widened. Leksa understood. Why would Heda stoop to going to forests and bringing back these eleven herself? Why stoop to doing something that any servant or guard could do? Onya didn't remember, so she wouldn't know why this was going to be so important for them both.

Leksa smiled at her at one time Fos. "I will explain one day, Onya. But right now, I must go to your territory. I must find these eleven Sky people. Stay with me on the trail. We will track them together." Onya still looked like she didn't understand. But she nodded and Leksa turned to Indra. "You will keep watch over Polis in my stead, Indra kom Trikru. I will return soon. Keep watch of our capital while I am gone." Indra bowed her head. Leksa nodded to the troubled looking Titus and walked away, Onya at her side and their warriors behind her.

If Klark remembered, the chances of her forgiving Leksa and Onya were as small as they had been before. And if Klark knew that Leksa had Klark's people locked up, it would infuriate her because of the history they had before. Leksa's throat tightened. She needed to believe that Klark didn't remember. She had to believe that. That was their only chance at having a relationship and starting over. That Klark might not remember.

Klark, Leksa thought, If you do remember, please, forgive us. I'll do anything to keep you and your people safe, Klark. I swear. This time it will be different. Onya and I will keep you and your people safe.

In the bunker, the morning seemed came far too soon. Light slipped in just through the crack around the giant square of the bunker's entrance. Clarke's thoughts were put into speech by Wells when he grumbled next to her, "Is it morning already? Come on…"

Clarke chuckled. She felt the same way. Only when Clarke tried to move her right arm up and get herself up off the floor, did she realize that she wasn't going to be able to move for a while, unless she woke Niylah up. Niylah was resting herself against Clarke, her head on her arm while her left arm and upper half of her body was on Clarke's body. Clarke stared at Niylah and said to her, "Niylah. Wake up. We need to leave soon. Come on, wake up. She sent a slight nudge with her right elbow to Niylah's left arm and pushed Niylah's head in the process. The older woman woke up, wide, hypnotic eyes opening and looking down at Clarke, the edges of Niylah's mouth turning.

Clarke's heart pounded. Had Niylah pretended to be asleep? Clarke was surprised to realize that the thought of Niylah pretending to be asleep so that she could be close to Clarke still, didn't bother her. It wasn't like Finn, Bellamy and Anya and Lexa hadn't done worse to her. This was a fairly tame deception.

Just as long as Niylah's deceptions were limited to only those things, Clarke wasn't sure she minded.

She gently pushed Niylah up, her body aching as she did. "Time to get up." Clarke said to Niylah, who nodded. Niylah looked at Clarke with that same loving look that she had last night. It made a shiver go down Clarke's spine. Was someone capable of loving her as much as Niylah claimed do?

Clarke moved back, looking at Niylah. Really looking at Niylah. This woman, Clarke knew so little about her. But Niylah claimed to love her more than she loved anyone and would follow her everywhere. That was enough to make even the most positive person in the world have cynical thoughts. What was the likelihood of Niylah's love being genuine? But Clarke had decided it last night. She'd risk it. If only for her own pleasure. Niylah's feelings, Lexa's feelings, Anya's feelings and Finn and Octavia's feelings be damned. And to hell with her ungrateful, useless people.

She was going to enjoy life. Even if it meant that she was the only one getting the enjoyment. And if it meant she was the only person that cared about her wellbeing besides Wells, then fine, she'd take it. Selfish indulgence it was from now on. Everyone else got away with it, why shouldn't she?

Let her kill people in their sleep, hide their bodies, burn down a village and sleep with women and men alike when she wanted and where she wanted. The consequences meant nothing after everything. After the last timeline, Clarke learned something very valuable. People only cared about you when you were useful to them. The moment you weren't, you were nothing to them. And people only cared about themselves.

So Clarke would take what she wanted, whether it was willingly given or not.

Clarke said quietly to Niylah, finding her perverse thoughts less and less atrocious as the minutes went by, "We should get up now." She stood up, pulling off the fur cover. She grabbed the gun at her feet and slung it over her shoulders again. Niylah and Wells stood up with her. Niylah grabbed the fur blanket and carried it up off the floor. Clarke looked at the others. All of them were still wrapped up in their blankets, except for Monroe. She was up and stretching herself out. Her legs shook and her arms shook out.

Clarke smiled. Whatever else Monroe might turn out to be, it looked like she was reliable. Monroe smirked at Clarke, then looked back at the others. She went to Octavia and Finn's side and kicked her foot at them, making Octavia yelp in pain, waking up fast. "Wake up, you two." Monroe snapped. "We need to get going." Finn and Octavia got up, Octavia glaring and Finn almost jumping away in surprise. Finn's movement back kicked Fox and Harper awake, making them cry out. The two girls' cries woke Pascal, Trina, Jasper and Monty up.

Everyone jumped up, shocked and frightened. Clarke glared and told them in a loud voice, "Shut up!" People jumped and looked at her, surprised. She glared at them. "There are other people on the ground besides her." Clarke nodded at Niylah. "Do you want them to hear you? I'm sure that not all of them are as peaceful as she is."

Some of the surprised looks stayed, but Monty, Finn, Pascal, Trina and Harper nodded, quieting down. Clarke looked at the radios and the guns around them on the floor. She turned to Monty. "Monty, can you and Wells give us a portable radio that we can use to contact the Ark with while we're going back to camp?" She nodded at the large radio machine bolted to the floor. "We can't take that thing with us, obviously."

Monty stepped over to the bolted down radio. He stared at it and turned to Wells. "What do you think, Wells?" Wells walked over and studied the radio machine. "I don't really know." Wells admitted. I think we might be able to do it. But we'd need a panel. We'd need something to attach all the wires and the radio to." Monty nodded. "Yeah, I think maybe we could do it."

Wells and Monty got closer to the machine and inspected it.

Clarke smile gratefully. She looked at the leftover deer. "Do you think that could still be eaten?" She asked.

Monroe nodded. "It's been cooked. But I don't think we want to risk it. The last ti-I checked some old cooking books on the Ark. Cooked deer meat tends not to go bad until at least three or four hours. We've been asleep longer than that. We shouldn't eat it. We should carry it out and get rid of it. We can get more meat today." Clarke stared at Monroe. There was something about the way Monroe said it that felt like Monroe knew from personal experience, rather than books.

Yes, Clarke knew that Monroe remembered everything. So she probably had experienced what spoilt deer meat was like. But Monroe had said it almost awkwardly. Clarke narrowed her eyes. Thinking about how the deer was cooked last night. She hadn't bothered to ask, but she wondered who it was that had cooked the deer last night. Monroe's experience made Clarke wonder if the other girl knew how to cook. Monroe's lie made Clarke wonder if the girl also knew how to read. Clarke felt a small bout of guilt for never finding out that much about Monroe.

Monroe had always been loyal and brave. She had followed Clarke into Mount Weather after Lexa and Anya had left them to die. Monroe didn't have to, but she did. She followed Clarke with some other Ark people into the mountain, even though Monroe knew that their chances of surviving were very thin. But Clarke hadn't thought about Monroe being able to read or not being able to read or being able to cook or not being able to cook.

Clarke looked at Monroe and decided this was as safe a question as any, since she was supposed to be pretending that she didn't know Monroe that well. "You know how to cook, Monroe?" Monroe looked at Clarke, surprised. Pink covered her cheeks and she nodded. "Yeah. Or roughly. I read a lot of books on the Ark. So I read a lot of cooking stuff. So I know a bit about cooking." Clarke nodded. She realized that she really hadn't known anything about Monroe at all. She knew how to cook and read and now as she found, Monroe was apparently a good liar. Clarke had no doubt that Monroe read a lot. But if she could keep herself this calm about the question while being watched by many different people, then Monroe was good at acting like everything was normal.

Clarke felt the guilt getting stronger. She knew that she needed to keep herself focused on what to do. Getting breakfast and making sure that Monty and Wells could make a portable radio. But Clarke knew that she would try to get to know Monroe better while doing all of these duties. She nodded to Monroe and said to the other girl, "Could you help me get rid of this meat, Monroe? We need to get breakfast for everyone. Especially Monty and Wells, since they need to keep their energy up. So can you help me get some more meat for them?"

Monroe nodded, and Clarke didn't miss the hopeful look in Monroe's green eyes before the other girl forced herself to look normal. Clarke wondered what that had been about, but didn't say anything about it.

Clarke turned to Niylah. "Niylah, can you come with us? I'm sure you know this land better than all of us. So could you help us track food?"

Clarke ignored Finn's offended words, "Hey! I can track food for you too."

"Shut up, Collins." Clarke said coldly. She looked at Niylah, awaiting Niylah's answer. The older woman nodded.

"Sha." The woman answered, smiling. "I will come with you."

Clarke was about to thank Niylah, when Monroe interrupted, "Wait a second." Clarke turned to Monroe, startled. Monroe said, looking at Clarke, "Maybe Niylah should stay here." At Clarke's confused look Monroe said, "Niylah has that machete. If there's any trouble, she can cut up anyone that attacks. But guns? They'd be good for shooting animals at long distance. You, me? Octavia and Finn? We can get some more meat together. Everyone else should stay here and make sure the radios work again."

Clarke squinted. Something about Monroe's reasons seemed to be a little off. A machete was just as good for hunting as a gun was. Maybe not in the same way as a gun was, but it was still good. And Clarke got a strange feeling about Monroe's words. Why did Clarke get the feeling that Monroe was lying about something? Clarke thought about protesting, but reminded herself that arguing would cause more trouble. Besides, if Monroe remembered everything, then she was saying this for a reason. Clarke would decide for herself if it was a good reason or not.

She turned to Niylah. "Niylah, do you mind staying here instead?" Niylah cocked her head and nodded. "If you prefer, I will stay here. But," Niylah reached to her belt and took out another knife. It shorter than Niylah's machete and thinner, but it was just as sharp. She offered it to Clarke by its handle.

"Guns run out of bullets." Niylah told Clarke, staring at her with meaning. "The blade will last much longer."

Clarke stared at the round ended, smooth, wooden handle of the blade. She looked up at Niylah and the brown eyes that stayed locked with Clarke told Clarke that the older woman would not stop holding the knife out to her until she took it. Clarke sighed and grabbed the hilt of the knife. "Thank you." Clarke said to the older woman. Niylah nodded, the intense look that she gave Clarke only stopping when Clarke took the knife and slipped it by its blade into the left side of her belt. She pushed the belt out enough for her to slip the blade through the space between her pants waistline and the belt.

Clarke looked at Niylah again. "Stay here and stay safe."

Niylah nodded. "You do not need to be worried about that Klark. I will stay here. Thank you."

Clarke smiled and walked over to Monroe who quickly made herself straighter, much to Clarke's curiosity. Finn, much to Clarke's disappointment, looked excited and Octavia looked smug. Clarke frowned. So she was giving up a possibly enjoyable hunt with Monroe and Niylah to go on a very annoying and unbearable hunt with Finn and Octavia. Great. Clarke held her tongue and nodded. She looked at the radio where Wells and Monty were. She said to Wells, "Wells, you're okay with staying here? I'll be careful. We're going out and getting meat. You're okay with this?" Wells looked up at Clarke and nodded. She could see he didn't like leaving her again, but he was apparently he was going with this. Whatever Monroe told him, it convinced him that his sister could take care of herself.

Clarke looked at the others and spoke loud, "Now listen here! Niylah is a Grounder. She would be a lot of help. If anyone tries to cause trouble for her, I will beat you till you're bleeding." Clarke saw the fear run around the room. Pascal and Trina both looked shocked. Fox, Harper and Jasper quailed. Clarke added, "She's important because she can help us. So I will choose her over you in case you decide to hurt her. But as long as you treat her peacefully, then we won't have any problems. Now we will get food for the rest of you. Behave."

There were frightened nods from the others and Clarke turned back to Monroe. "So let's go." She glanced at Octavia and Finn. "So can the four of us take the deer upstairs and get rid of it?"

Octavia and Finn turned their heads to the dead deer. Octavia's nose wrinkled. Finn on the other hand, walked forward and leaned down, instantly helping pick up the mangled, cooked deer. Clarke smirked at Octavia. "It looks like one of you is willing to work." She turned and went to Finn. Monroe came up next to Clarke and leaned down.

Clarke, as she predicted, heard Octavia's angered voice snap, "I can work! Fuck you, Princess." Octavia stormed over and leaned down, picking up the sides of the deer. Clarke fought her smirk. She, Monroe, Finn and Octavia carried the deer up the ladder. Clarke reached the top of the bunker and pushed its metal lid up. It was heavy, but Clarke pushed it up, a weight against her right arm, but she pushed it up. She walked up the ladder and slipped out from under the lid, getting on the ground and carried the dead deer out with Monroe, Finn and Octavia. The lid lowered when they were out.

Clarke said to the other three, "Let's get this thing to the forest and toss it. After, we should go find something else." She, Monroe, Octavia and Finn dragged the deer off into the forest. They got to a small, steep few steps that were next to a hill and Clarke pulled the deer, nodding to the bottom of the hill. Monroe saw where Clarke was nodding. "Down there?" Monroe asked the other blonde. Clarke nodded. Monroe looked back at Finn and Octavia. "Drop it, guys." Finn and Octavia both did as Monroe said. Monroe and Clarke let the deer go. The corpse went dropping down the hill, plopping against the rocks, till it hit the grassy ground, some bloody bits coming off on landing.

Clarke wiped her hands against her pants and turned to the other three. "So, off to get food for this morning?" Monroe nodded. Finn nodded and Octavia, sulking, also nodded. The four of them walked back into the forest and went past the bunker, going into the woods and going down the path. They walked a few miles, Clarke listening in on the woods, both for intruders and for any animals they could hunt. Finn was watching the ground, checking for tracks. Clarke side eyed Monroe to see what she was doing. The other blonde was keeping her eyes almost closed and Clarke wondered why.

Clarke heard Octavia run ahead. She watched the brat run up to three trees and stand on a rock, letting the sun hit her face. Clarke was relieved that the spoiled brat was distracted. Clarke leaned into Monroe and whispered to her, "Monroe, what are you doing?"

Monroe shrugged, "Same thing as you. If you're smart. I'm trying to listen in and see if there's any fucking Grounders around that are stalking us." Clarke smirked, impressed. Monroe had been listening too.

"How does that work?" Clarke asked. "You're eyes are almost closed."

Monroe nodded. "Well, yeah. Cut off another sense so that one of the other senses is sharpened. Lincoln taught me that in the last timeline when he was training some of us in tracking."

Clarke was surprised. Really surprised. Lincoln had trained Monroe. And like with the other skills Clarke didn't know Monroe had, Monroe knew how to listen for sounds around her, even the further away sounds. Clarke chuckled to Monroe, "You have many surprising skills." Clarke decided to leave out reading as one of those skills. It would just be insulting to tell Monroe that she assumed that Monroe didn't know how to read. "Being able to listen for quiet footsteps. And cooking." Again, Clarke noticed Monroe's cheeks reddening. Just a little embarrassment, Clarke assumed.

Clarke looked up ahead at Finn and Octavia. Clarke said in a quiet voice, "I hope we find Lincoln soon. It would be good to distract Octavia with him. And we need as much help as we can get."

Monroe nodded. She was glad there was a change in subject. She didn't want to show her embarrassment. Clarke didn't know how much it affected Monroe to hear her praise Monroe. She could feel the warmth in her face start to seep away. She wondered what Clarke would say if she told the other blonde that she read things like "Pride and Prejudice" or "Sense and Sensibility." What would Clarke think of her then? Would she be impressed? Monroe remembered that Anya, Lexa and Clarke had been interested in each other in the other timeline. What had Anya and Lexa been like? Was there something that interested Clarke in Anya and Lexa, besides Lexa and Anya being the two grounder leaders that could have helped them one time? Monroe knew that Finn wasn't that interesting. Besides being able to make little figurines and track and being a flirt, Monroe couldn't remember anything that interesting about him. What about Niylah?

Monroe knew she needed to stop thinking about this and analyzing it so much. It would make her frustrated. Crazy even. Maybe Clarke would give Monroe a chance, maybe she wouldn't. It wasn't Monroe's place to decide for the other girl. And if Clarke never was interested in her in that way? So what? Monroe loved her. She would do anything to keep Clarke safe and help her. Clarke didn't owe her anything. Monroe was going to be as good as Mr. Darcy if she could. And if that meant letting the woman she loved go and be with who she wanted to be with, then Monroe was more than happy to do that.

Monroe walked with Clarke till the two of them got to Finn and Octavia, who were standing at the top of a hill, going straight down to a valley. The valley was big and covered in dark green grass. There were many flowers all over the valley. Clarke smiled, recognizing a few that grew around here. Irises, daisies and lilies. Clarke knew it was sentimental, and inconveniently sentimental, especially after all she'd been through, but she discovered that her favorite flower were the lilacs. She knew better than to think too much about flowers and temporary beauty.

She needed to think about their survival and escape from the Commander's territory and only that.

Clarke heard something crack. She heard it from far off in the valley, but she heard it. It was a heavy cracking noise. Like something big just stepped on a stick. "What was that?" Monroe asked, getting closer to Clarke. Clarke nodded. Good. Monroe heard it too. They both looked past a low hill, opposite of them. Finn and Octavia were walking down into the valley, not noticing any sound. Finn picked one of the irises and put it in Octavia's hair. Octavia beamed in response throwing Clarke a smirk. Clarke noticed this and wasn't sure which of them she found more astounding. Finn knew that Clarke knew about Raven and still flirted with Octavia. Octavia knew about Raven because Clarke had talked about Raven and she still was flirting with him. The audacity of these two was overwhelming.

Clarke smirked, looking at what was over the other hill. It made her glad she didn't care about them any more.

She saw what was beyond the short hill. It was a black bear. The full-grown black bear was walking around awkwardly, sniffing the ground. Clarke looked at Monroe. "Monroe, you see this?" She asked.

Monroe nodded, grinning. "What, our next meal? Yeah. I see it. Clarke, want to see another skill I have? Give me the gun. I'll show you. I can shoot the bear from here." Clarke smirked at Monroe, hiding her distrust. She wanted to trust Monroe, but she couldn't be sure. So she couldn't risk giving Monroe the gun.

But Clarke's distrust was hidden when she said in a mocking tone, "Sorry, Monroe. You want to see a real shooter? Let me show you. You're not the only one that has had some experience shooting things. Or did you forget? Wells and I have been trained."

Clarke put the barrel of the gun on her left arm and aimed the gun with her right, putting her head down, looking through the eye scope of the gun. She saw the big, furry, black animal. She smiled. It would be quick. She was aiming right at the bear's head. And there was no way she could miss. Without hesitation, she pulled the trigger. The bullet flew out, across the valley, over Octavia and Finn's heads and the bullet flew through the bear's skull, blood shooting out.

Both Octavia and Finn cried out when they heard the gunshot, and the bear snarled in pain, then collapsed to the ground. The heavy animal dropped with a crash and Finn and Octavia turned to the noise. When they saw no cause for the sound, they turned back to Clarke and Monroe. Clarke took the gun away and lowered it. She glanced at Monroe and the braided girl smirked. "That's cool." Monroe said. "But I'd like to see you do it one day without the eye scope. That's cheating."

Clarke chuckled. "Is it? Fine. One day you'll get to see me do it without the eyepiece. That's a challenge if I ever heard one."

"Griffin!" Octavia yelled, voice extremely high, "What the fuck is wrong with you?! You could have killed us!"

"Oh please." Clarke said, not looking at Octavia or Finn, just at where the bear's body was. "I didn't kill you. Stop whining." Clarke saw no reason to use softness with anyone anymore. So she shot a bullet over Octavia and Finn's heads. So what? Worse had been done to her. And no one cared. They just told her that when she tried her hardest, it "wasn't good enough." Or that she was the problem when she was already willing to give up everything for her people. So why should she give anyone else empathy? What made Octavia and Finn special that they deserved it?

Octavia was the type that demanded nothing but the best, but when she couldn't deliver the best, she was furious that anyone criticized her. If there was one sin that Octavia and Bellamy suffered from, it was hypocrisy. There were plenty of others too, but that one was the one that came to Clarke's mind first.

Clarke walked down the hill. "Sorry to upset you, you delicate flower." Clarke mocked Octavia as she walked. "But I'm going to go get our breakfast." She went across the valley to the other hill and walked up it, going over the side and getting to the bear's body. She looked down at the black fur covered animal and stopped walking as soon as she saw that the bear's front paws were still twitching. Clarke's breath was caught and her arms shook. She almost whimpered in pain as she realized what happened here. The bear was still alive. It was suffering.

Clarke knew what he had to do. She had to put it out of its misery. As soon as she could. Clarke took the gun and cupped it close, aiming the barrel at the bear's head again. She shot the bear in the head twice more, the skull exploding, the blood spraying everywhere. Some of it hit the toes of Clarke's shoes. Clarke heard Octavia's cries and Finn's shocked words, "What the fuck?!" But she ignored them both.

Clarke stared at the now very dead bear that had no head left. The bits of head remaining were scraps of bone and brain matter and puddles of blood. Clarke watched the blood drip sadly, feeling all the pity she had kept away from human beings become very alive after what she did to this poor animal. "I'm sorry." She said quietly to the bear. "You deserved better than to be killed for the likes of us."

Clarke swallowed and tried to keep up a tough appearance. She turned around and looked at the shocked Octavia and Finn. She looked over at the also startled Monroe. "Can all three of you help me carry this thing to the bunker? I'm not strong enough to get it there on my own." She put the gun's strap around her shoulders and swung the gun around to hang from her back. She went around to the bear's back and leaned down behind the bear's hindquarters. She might have been the one to kill the bear, but since Octavia and Finn were the ones with her, she'd make them suffer through its death too. Clarke was guessing that they wouldn't be reliving all this if it wasn't for Octavia and Finn, just as much as if it wasn't for Bellamy, Lexa, Anya, Clarke's mother and Clarke herself.

So Clarke had no pity. Octavia and Finn came over and Monroe was following them from the other side of the valley. When Octavia and Finn got to the top of the hill, Clarke nodded at the front of the bear. "Do you two think you can lift the bear up by its front? While Monroe and I get its back?" Octavia looked like she might be sick. That ridiculous flower was still in her hair. "Are you kidding me?" Octavia asked. "You were the one that shot it in the head. Three times! You sicko."

Clarke sneered, glaring up at Octavia, "We need to eat. And the first shot didn't kill the bear. It just really badly hurt it. So I ended its pain. Sorry if that's too sadistic for you. I guess you just like seeing things suffer for a long time. Besides, I was the one that killed the bear. The three of you? You need to do some work too. But I'm sure that's impossible for you to do, Octavia. You're too busy hiding under floorboards to help anyone."

It was somewhat reassuring to know that Clarke could count on Octavia being useless. It was predictable behavior. Octavia would act like she was pulling all the weight because she didn't know how else to act. But it was an act and only an act. Octavia had no use, except to push other people around. And even then, she couldn't really contribute that much.

Octavia's face turned red and Clarke nodded down to the front of the bear, looking back at Octavia, waiting. Octavia stormed to the bear, kneeling down and grabbed the front of the bear's paws, pulling the bear up. She growled at Clarke, "Fuck you, Griffin."

Clarke snorted, "No thank you. I don't want to catch anything from you, sorry." Octavia growled at Clarke, outraged.

"Looks like I got here just in time to only bring over the leftovers." Monroe said, grinning, interrupting anything Octavia might say.

Clarke grinned at Monroe. "Can you come around the back and help me here, Monroe?" Monroe nodded, going to the bear's hindquarters and leaned down, picking the bear's rear up. Finn went to the other side of the bear's front and started to lift. Despite all four teenagers giving their best effort, they couldn't hold up the bear for long. The bear's body was taken up off the ground and moved only six or seven inches and moved only half a foot before the weight became too much and they dropped their load back onto the ground.

"Dammit." Clarke growled, arms aching. She stepped back, glaring at the dead animal. Her hands rubbed the back of her head and her now aching back. "This is going to be harder than I thought."

"Yeah." Octavia growled, glaring at Clarke accusingly. "It looks like you killed the bear for nothing."

Clarke shrugged. "And it won't be the last animal I kill for nothing. Things die all the time. Suck it up." She kept speaking before Octavia could give any other obnoxious comment, "If we could get one of the others from the bunker to help, that might work."

"Um," Monroe said, looking into the woods, her eyes big. "We might not need to do that." Clarke frowned, confused. She turned around to see what Monroe was looking at. She gasped, almost tripping over the back of the black bear. She heard Octavia and Finn's surprised mumblings.

In the forest, just a foot from them, were three Grounders. One was shorter than the other two and was obviously a woman, if you looked closely. The other one to the right of them was much bigger with a beard. They were all wearing masks, but even with the mask, Clarke recognized the Grounder in the middle. Dark skin, bald head, and she sure as fuck recognized the eyes.

Clarke's heart beat fast. She didn't know who the other two Grounders were. But she knew who the middle one was.

It was Lincoln.


	8. To leave the others behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So don't feel too attached to Octavia, Lincoln and Lincoln's friends in this story. Lincoln remembering doesn't matter to Clarke. As long as he's loyal to Octavia, because of course he is, then he's a danger. So they'll be left to be drugged. As for the others? They're going to head for the Shallow Valley to get those boats.

And now Clarke was faced with Lincoln and two random Grounders. Clarke's gasp was quiet, mind not quite grasping what she was seeing. She didn't even think about Lincoln being a problem because of Octavia. All she could think of right now was that there were three Grounders in front of them and one of them was Lincoln. Fucking Lincoln.

Clarke wasn't able to compose herself. Her gasp was instant and her mouth dropped.

Lincoln suddenly stepped through the brush, walking to Clarke and her group. The two warriors behind him followed. Emerging behind Lincoln and the other two Grounders, were shockingly and disturbingly enough, six more Grounders. Clarke gasped again, staring. Nine Grounders. All big and muscled and probably armed, as all Grounders were.

Clarke and the Monroe backed away. Octavia and Finn stayed where they were, gaping at the people approaching. Clarke hissed at the two of them, "Dammit, Octavia, Finn! Get out of the way."

To Clarke's still growing shock, Lincoln started taking his mask off. He pulled the mask off, revealing his face. Clarke's heart pounded. Here he was in full flesh and blood. Lincoln of the Tree People. He and more of his tribe were here. Why the hell were they here? Clarke wondered, thinking about it. Her panicked mind rationalized that maybe it was because she and the others had gone a different direction from the last time they had gone. Maybe Lincoln and this group of Grounders had always been here, patrolling the grounds. It was just that she and the others were intruding.

Lincoln spoke in Gonadesleng of all things. "It's alright. I won't hurt any of you. I wish to speak with you. My name is Linkin. I'm from the Trikru people. The woods tribe. I am here to offer you help." Clarke blinked, then stared at the man. He knew to speak English. And he knew that they needed help? Clarke couldn't let herself think it. No. Lincoln couldn't remember too, could he? Even if he did, what about the Grounders with him? Did they remember anything? And if they did, they were most likely more of a danger than an ally.

Clarke looked at the eight other Grounders that came out of the forest. The woman that had been with Lincoln first was small and tall, but she wasn't that muscled. The man with the two of them was incredibly muscled. The first two that followed them out, Clarke suspected were brothers. They had the same black hair and the top halves of their faces were almost identical.

There was one elderly looking Grounder with some brown still in his beard and hair with a scar across the right side of his jaw. Next to him were three women. One, Clarke realized couldn't be any more than a teenager. She was slight and armed, covered in a brown, leather shirt, her long, brown hair past her shoulders, a horned, leather mask covering her face.

The other two were also women. Both of them were older than the girl that was next to them. They were adults, Clarke was guessing. She couldn't tell since the rest of their faces were covered in leather masks, but from what she could see of the top of their faces, they probably were a bit older than thirty. That was her guess.

When Lincoln got no answer after his statement, he turned and gestured to the people around him. He waved to the thin woman to his right. "This is Dleena." He nodded to the muscled man next to him. "This is Kenror." He turned to the old man. "This is Halizee." He gestured to the two young brothers. "These are Kalu and Warmen." He nodded to the young girl. "This is Shala, Kenror's daughter." Then he nodded to the two older women. "And those are Velu and Tomona. The taller one with shorter hair is Tomona."

Clarke thought over what Lincoln was telling her. Had Lincoln always been this friendly? Sure, of all the Grounders, Lincoln was always the most helpful. But was he always this peaceful to Sky People? Clarke didn't remember. He had helped Octavia when she was injured. But soon after that, Octavia's idiot brother and his group had imprisoned Lincoln and tortured him. Clarke wasn't proud of knowing that she hadn't stopped it and that she had encouraged it, so that they could save Finn at the time. But if Lincoln hadn't been captured by them and tortured, would he be this friendly and helpful?

Lincoln turned then to Octavia and smiled at her, warmth and protectiveness in his eyes. Octavia looked startled and uneasy by the look. Lincoln nodded to her before turning to Clarke. He asked her in a calm voice, "Why did you come this way from where your people were?" Clarke stared cautiously. "We're just looking for food. That's all. And I'd like to know if we would be allowed safe passage to any other land where we would not be attacked for being outsiders."

Lincoln cocked his head at Clarke and smirked and Clarke was sure, almost sure that Lincoln remembered, her heart leaping up. "Why would you think you would be attacked here for being outsiders?" Lincoln asked. Clarke slowly answered, feeling more and more like she was stepping into a trap, "We're new to this world. And I know how some cultures react to new cultures. I don't know how your leaders will react to us."

Lincoln nodded. "You might not know. But I do." There was something in Lincoln's voice that was mildly disgusted. He nodded and met Clarke's gaze. "I promise you, I will keep you and your people safe. Even if it's from our Heda."

Clarke's mouth dropped at that proclamation. That was one big claim. One big promise. Clarke wasn't sure she could deny the possibility anymore. Lincoln remembered. Lincoln was loyal to the Commander till the Mountain. Then the Commander had knocked him down and dragged him off to Polis. Clarke's blood still boiled, remembering that. Not only did the Commander leave her people to die, but she took away any further help that Clarke might get from anyone still loyal. Like Lincoln. She was really surprised that Octavia was still in the mountain when Clarke had gone in. Sure, she knew that Octavia's loyalty was probably fickle, but that wasn't why Clarke had been surprised.

She had been surprised because She thought that Octavia might be forced to leave with Indra and the other Grounders inside on Lexa's orders. But she wasn't. Clarke genuinely was surprised. Not at Octavia. But at Indra. She hadn't been expecting Indra to actually respect Octavia's decision to stay. Indra was not a reasonable Grounder, unlike Lincoln and Niylah. Clarke was sure that if she ever ran into Indra, she would shoot the woman right in the head. Because with Indra, there was a limited option of what to do. Unfortunately, the same could be said of Anya. But Clarke wasn't sure she'd be able to bring herself into shooting Anya.

Lincoln talked again, "I would like to ask if you would allow us to join you." Clarke stared at him, shocked.

"Wait," Monroe said, stepping closer. "Why should we trust you?" She nodded to the other Grounders. "Or any of them?" Lincoln smiled. "I have told them of what the Commander will do. They believe me. The Commander is not to be trusted. She is our leader and she will betray you at first opportunity. So I wish to help you escape her land. And so will my friends." Clarke looked at the people that Lincoln was referring to. Who were these people? Trikru friends of Lincoln, obviously. But she never had seen them before.

Not in Polis and not in any of Lexa or Anya's camps.

She looked at Lincoln suspiciously. "And why should we trust any of you? My friend here has a point." She nodded to Monroe.

Finn came over closer and was trying to get between Clarke and the nine Grounders. Clarke tried not to groan at Finn's stubbornness and immaturity. Man, he really couldn't take a hint, could he?

Lincoln kept smiling, glancing at the fascinated Octavia. "If you don't trust me, I understand. But I would like us to be friends. These people who are with me and myself, we all are in the same village. We are under the command of a general, Onya."

Lincoln watched the reactions and Clarke damned herself for not being able to hide her reaction. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. Anya? Anya was here? Wait...these people were all Anya's warriors, right?

Clarke looked at the warriors Lincoln had with them, her heart skipping a beat with a realization. These people all died last time in the ring of fire she had ordered Raven create. All eight of these people with Lincoln were dead in the other timeline. Then again, Clarke knew that she was too. Because Pike had more than happily shot her in the head. So she really wasn't one to talk about who was dead and who wasn't, was she?

She sighed, ignoring the guilt that started to rear its annoying head, making her wonder how much pain these eight had experienced before they had died. "So, the nine of you are going to help us?" She asked. "Are there any more of you? And does your general know that you're trying to help us?" Clarke knew that answer already. Anya was loyal only to the Commander. If Anya knew that Lincoln was helping them, then Anya would kill Lincoln. And all eight people that were helping him.

Lincoln shook his head. "No. Onya would not allow it." Clarke's question brought both of the young men who were brothers to laughter. The one on the left snorted and said something in Trigedasleng. Clarke understood what he said quickly. The brother said, "Yeah, right. No, Onya does not know. All our heads would be taken if she knew."

Clarke fought a smirk. Obviously the boy didn't want anyone to know what he was saying, otherwise he would have spoken in Gonasleng. So she said nothing. Lincoln said to them, "He said-" Clarke shook her head, "I don't care what he said. So okay. This 'Anya' doesn't know." Clarke made sure to emphasize her newness to the name so that she didn't sound too familiar with Anya's name. "So what do we do, if we are to trust you nine? I'm still distrusting you, by the way."

Lincoln nodded. "I expect that. I wish to take you to a safe place. For all of you. I know that there are more than just four of you. There are a hundred and one." Clarke lurched back without meaning to. Fuck. Lincoln remembered. And this was bad too. He intended to help everyone back at the dropship. All the one hundred.

Lincoln added. "And as soon as we get you four and the others you have with you somewhere safe, we'll rescue the others. I promise you, we'll get them out of the Polis dungeons." Clarke almost fell over her feet when she heard that. What? What about the Polis dungeons? Monroe thankfully started asking questions, the same ones Clarke was wondering. "What do you mean, the Polis dungeons? Why would the other people from the dropship be in the Polis dungeons? And what what the FUCK is Polis?"

Clarke glanced at Monroe. Her shock over everything aside, she was really grateful that Monroe was good at hiding everything she knew. She only saw curiosity on Monroe's face. Monroe was hiding the things she knew well.

Lincoln didn't answer this time. One of the women, Velu answered instead, pulling off her leather mask that covered her mouth and nose. The woman responded in Gonasleng, "Polis is the capital of our lands. Our Commander lives there and rules there. And the rest of your people that came down in that metal thing were taken to Polis. All of them. They will most likely be put in dungeons until Heda decides what to do with them."

Lincoln sighed, staring at the dark brown haired woman that was Velu, "Velu, what did I say? Don't tell them this so soon. Just let them get used to everything first."

Velu shook her head, scowling at Lincoln, dark hair flying wild over her shoulders. "Don't spoil these children. They need to get used to this world and know they have to survive. Fight and survive. Or they'll die."

"Thank you," Clarke growled, reminded a little too much of Lexa from Velu's words, anger starting to rise. "But what was it you said just now? The other people from the metal ship we came down in have been locked up in Polis? All of them?"

Lincoln nodded, turning back to Clarke. He nodded. "Sha. All of the Sky people that were in that ship, they were taken to Polis." Lincoln glanced at Octavia when he said what he said next. "Their leader I believe is a man named Belomi. They took him too."

While Clarke felt no pity for Bellamy and the others, being taken to Polis, this complicated things for many reasons. For one, Lincoln telling Octavia this would make Octavia want to rescue Bellamy. And that would put a wrench in the plans of leaving.

But there was another problem. Things were different this time. Lexa never sent warriors out to take the 100 prisoner last time. Lexa hadn't acted until there was a burnt village. Then she had sent three hundred warriors to kill the one hundred. So why were things happening differently now? Why had Lexa ordered all of the 100, plus Bellamy to be taken prisoner?

Clarke's stomach turned, because she knew. She knew the reason why things were happening differently. The reason why the 100 were taken to Polis at Lexa's command was because someone remembered. Someone who wasn't Lincoln also remembered. Maybe it was Lexa or Anya. Maybe it had been both of them. Maybe it was someone else. Clarke suspected it was someone else or Lexa. Because if it had been Anya, then Lincoln would have been killed horribly by now.

Clarke had to think, how were they going to deal with this? Because Octavia would want to stop the Grounders from hurting her brother. But they couldn't stop. They needed to go to South America and help the rest of the Ark come down. As far as Clarke was concerned, the deaths of one hundred people didn't matter. The rest of the Ark was what mattered. So Clarke couldn't care less if Bellamy, either of the Johns, Atom, Dax, Drew, Roma, Diggs, Del, Deek, Miller, and the rest of Bellamy's little murderous group survived or not. It wasn't her problem.

Clarke cautiously looked at Monroe and Octavia to see how they were taking this. Octavia was as to be expected, looking angry and frantic. "Grounders are hurting Bell?" She asked, demanding. Monroe didn't look as troubled and Clarke wondered if it was an act again. Monroe had been one of Bellamy's underlings in the previous timeline. Sure, Monroe said now that she didn't trust the man and would never trust him again, or listen to him again. But could Clarke trust that claim? How did Monroe feel about the rest of the one hundred, not to mention Monroe's first leader on the ground, Bellamy being in Grounder custody?

The braided girl showed no real sign that this information upset her. Again, Clarke felt a little suspicious about this. She would need to talk about this with Monroe later, for a number of reasons, but this was just one more reason. She looked at Lincoln who was watching Octavia worriedly. The tenderness in his eyes made Clarke sure that he remembered everything. So what was that now? Her, Lincoln, Niylah and Monroe and someone else who had changed the circumstances of the 100 who had ordered the 100 be locked up? Five or six people who remembered? Why only the five or six of them?

Why no one else?

Clarke thought about the big change that had happened. Someone had to have remembered. Because the one hundred had been thrown into the Polis dungeons. Who that was, Clarke didn't know. But someone remembered. Maybe it had been Lexa. Maybe it had been Anya or both Lexa and Anya. Maybe it had been Indra or that big idiot, Gustus. Maybe it had been Titus. Titus had always hated them. So him remembering would be one of the worst possibilities out there.

Clarke looked at Monroe. What did Monroe want to do? She inched closer to Monroe. "Hey, Monroe," She said, "Is there going to be a problem?" Monroe shook her head. "No. Not if Lincoln brings us to safety first." Monroe looked at Lincoln. "You said that you wanted to take us somewhere safe, right? Where?" Lincoln smiled, looking at Octavia worried still, "To the Floukru. To Luna's tribe. She is the leader of the Boat People. Her people are peaceful and will welcome you."

Clarke almost snorted. That was cute. Lincoln thought they wanted to go to the Floukru. "I've got a better idea, sorry." She said to Lincoln, making him turn to her. "I wish to go to a land that doesn't have anyone on it so that we're not intruding on anyone's territory."

She added at Lincoln's surprised face, "It's just the smartest and safest thing to do. We met someone who told us where all the territories ended. So we're going somewhere where we're not invading and we won't be bothering anyone's home."

Clarke didn't care whose home she bothered by this point. But if she wanted to keep Lincoln from finding out that she remembered, she needed to come up with a good lie.

Lincoln said quietly to her, "There won't be any need. You'll be safe with Luna's people."

Clarke shook her head. "Sorry. You want to take some of the others to this 'Luna's' people? Then good. Go ahead and do it. But I'm going somewhere else. And I'll take anyone who will go with me. But you're welcome to take anyone you want too, Lincoln."

Clarke stared at Lincoln with meaning and she moved her gun to show Lincoln that she wouldn't be afraid to kill him and the other Grounders if she needed to. Lincoln's eyes went down to the gun and looked back at her. She wasn't sure, but she could have sworn she saw disappointment. She didn't know if it was disappointment that she didn't remember him because she was trying to act like she didn't remember or if it was disappointment at her behavior. Either way, not her problem.

He frowned. "There is no reason why you have to go that far." Octavia cut in, "Clarke, we should listen to him. If he's going to help us get Bell and the others, we should listen to him."

Clarke tried not to snort again. Octavia would listen to a hot guy she met just today, wouldn't she? Anything that made her feel like she had the attention she thought she deserved. Clarke knew she had to think and think fast. Lincoln, Octavia and these new Grounders, they were all obstacles between them, the Ark and the Ark's survival. If Clarke had to, she would kill them all again. She would even kill Octavia and Lincoln.

She nodded to Octavia. "Like I said, Octavia. Lincoln can take anyone that wants to go with him. If you want to go with him? Then good for you. I'm sure the Boat People will be very welcoming. But I'm not going with them." Clarke kept her voice calm, glancing at Lincoln as he watched her. She was sure that he was trying to figure out if she remembered or not. "So anyone that wants to go with Lincoln and the others to the Boat People," Clarke said, looking between Monroe and Finn. "They can. But I'm not going. Sorry."

Monroe nodded. "I'm not going either. Sorry Mr. Lincoln." Clarke almost chuckled.

"Mr. Lincoln." That was a nice touch of Monroe pretending that she didn't remember.

Finn nodded. "Yeah, sorry. But I'll stay with Clarke, Lincoln. I'd like to live in peace with you guys. But if Princess says that we should go somewhere else, then I'm going somewhere else." Clarke actually rolled her eyes at Finn's words. Was Finn really going to depend his safety, based on a hard on he had for her?

That was pathetic, even for some of the people in the group of one hundred.

Lincoln looked displeased. Octavia just looked pissed. The other eight Grounders showed no emotions. But Clarke was expecting that. They were machines. They had no concept of it being okay to show emotion. They might as well be emotionless husks anyway. Clarke might have at one time felt bad about planning to shoot all of them through their chests or heads. But not anymore. If she had to, she would kill them. They were dead already, on the inside. So what was the problem?

Clarke cradled the gun in her arms and said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "I'm going to bring this food to the others. Now you can help us bring the bear if you want. We need to bring this to our friends so they can have food."

Lincoln didn't say anything for a second. But he nodded then. "I understand." He turned to Kenror, Warmen, help them carry the bear back to where they came from."

The young man on their left nodded and walked over. So did the large man next to Lincoln. Octavia looked at Lincoln, afraid. "They won't kill the people they have locked up in Polis, right? They won't kill my brother?" Lincoln shook his head. "Heda is a disgrace to us. But I don't believe she will kill them yet. She will want answers from them first."

Clarke didn't pay attention. She quietly told Finn to go help the two men. Monroe leaned down and helped too. Clarke went in and helped, never taking her eyes off of the people. She didn't trust them. They were Trikru. They would betray them first chance they get. They started the trip back to the bunker. When they got there, they laid the deer down and opened up the bunker door.

Clarke looked inside at Wells, Monty, Harper and the others who were looking up at them, shocked. She yelled down to them, "No one freak out! There are other Grounders here. They say that they'll help us. Don't worry, they're not going to hurt us. They better not." Clarke sent what she hoped was a chilling stare at Lincoln and the other Grounders, cradling the gun around her shoulders again.

Lincoln looked uncomfortable. But Velu cocked her head, a smirk on her face as she looked at Clarke. Tomona, Kenror, Halizee, Dleena and Shala who now had their masks off after the deer was lowered down, all looked unemotional. Warmen and Kalu were both grinning, as if they found her threats both funny and exciting.

Warmen leaned close to his brother. Clarke realized that he was Warmen, only because he reacted when Lincoln told him to. Warmen was close to his brother and said in Trigedasleng, something Clarke understood too well, but knew she couldn't shoot the boy over saying unless she wanted to start a fight. Warmen said, "What would it be like to have her riding us till we're unconscious?" Kalu chuckled, grinning. He spoke also in Trigedasleng, "I bet she'd bruise us up good. Imagine her hands on our necks."

Clarke almost stepped back, hands tightening on the gun. What the hell had she heard right now? It sounded like these two had a choking fetish. And liked to be on the receiving end of it. Or Kalu did. And they were both hoping she'd what-dominate them sexually? It took a lot for Clarke's face to be impassive. It was hard, but she pulled it off. Clarke then heard deep, angry breathing next to her. She turned to Monroe and watched the braided girl's face redden, her teeth clenching. The braided girl was staring hatefully at Kalu and Warmen. Her hands were clenched like she was trying very hard not to punch them.

Clarke frowned, confused. She knew that Monroe knew some Trigedasleng. But even if Monroe could understand the words, why would that make Monroe angry?

Shala thankfully snapped at both young men in her language, "Shut up, you two. You can try to court her later. Just help us get the deer down."

Clarke felt a little amused, but really incredulous too. Really? These two morons who she had set on fire in the previous timeline wanted to have sex with her? Sure, that wasn't so weird. Aside from the whole idea of a different timeline, wanting to have sex was a natural thing. And Clarke didn't feel like they wanted to force her into anything. Shala's exact words had been "court," nothing else. Clarke may not have heard that word in a while, outside of the books she read. But she knew what that word meant.

She ignored the thought of it. She was going to pretend that she didn't hear what the brothers had said. Not just for the sake of hiding what she knew, but for the sake of sanity. She did not have time to worry about two other young men infatuated with her like Finn was while she was trying to keep her people alive. Right now they had to get everyone fed and get those radios to be portable. Then she needed to get the others away from Lincoln and his group. Clarke looked at Monroe when they were all down in the bunker. Monroe was still staring at the brothers suspiciously. Clarke heard Lincoln say to the people above in Trigedasleng. Clarke grabbed her weapon, waiting for a betrayal. It never came. She heard Lincoln order the others to get more food. She heard some answers back and heard the sound of people leaving the scene.

Clarke watched Lincoln come down the ladder, gripping the gun close. Lincoln, she wanted to believe in, like she had wanted to believe in all five her mother, Anya, Lexa, Octavia and Bellamy. And all three of them had proven to her that her trust in them wasn't worth much.

So if she was going to trust Lincoln even a tad bit, it would be with a gun in her hand, aimed at the Grounder and his friends. Clarke hoped she and Lincoln could be friends again. But she had to be sure that he was safe. As far as she was concerned by now, no one was safe or was to be trusted. So she would take her chances very carefully.

It was like the thought she had with the bullets. Every one of her decision had to be like a bullet. Every decision had to count. None of the decisions would be nice or pretty. But it would help her and her people survive. These were ugly choices and matters, but she'd have to do as she needed to do. She turned to the others in the bunker. Wells and Monty both backed away and Jasper was looking at them curiously. Harper, Fox and Pascal all looked nervous now and Trina kept behind Pascal.

"Alright, guys," Clarke said, she nodded to Lincoln. "This is Lincoln. And the people with him are his friends. Apparently they're going to help us."

Wells looked at Lincoln. He then looked at Monroe. Clarke saw Wells whispering the name to Monroe. "Lincoln?" Monroe nodded. Wells turned and stared at Lincoln, now appearing incredibly respectful of the man. Clarke tried not to smirk. She guessed there was a reason for Wells reacting like a star struck fan boy. Out of all the people that Wells had been told by Monroe that had betrayed them and betrayed Clarke, Lincoln probably stuck out as being the only good person besides Raven, Harper and Monty in a crowd of awful and useless people.

Clarke looked over at Niylah, wanting to see how she took this. She circled around the bunker, coming close to Pascal and Trina. She watched both Lincoln and those with him. The ones with him were Warmen, Kozar, Shala, Velu and Tomona. Halizee, Dleena and Kenror went hunting.

Clarke said to the rest of the people in the bunker, "Lincoln is going to go to another tribe called the 'Floukru.' He says they're peaceful and that they will welcome any outsiders. So if anyone wants to go with Lincoln to the 'Floukru,' I'll understand and you have my support. But I would like to go to a different place where we won't have to worry about pissing off any Grounders. So do what you want." What Clarke didn't say was, "It's not like you don't always do that anyway."

These people were probably going to go with Lincoln. They didn't like it when they didn't have the answers instantly laid out before them. They didn't like it when they weren't instantly taken care of. They were weak and stupid.

Pascal was the one that asked something that was surprisingly smart to ask. He looked at Clarke and asked, "Well, where are you going to go? I thought we were going back to camp."

Finn shook his head. "Bad idea. The others were all taken by other Grounders. To their leader. Some Commander in a place they call 'Polis.'"

Monty gaped, looking scared. "What?"

Jasper got that look that Clarke recognized that just screamed, I really want to run away.

Wells looked at Clarke for answers and Clarke shook her head, shrugging. She turned to Monroe. "Monroe, can you, me, Wells and Niylah talk for a few minutes up on the ground?"

Monroe looked surprised and nodded. Clarke looked at Wells, then at Niylah. Niylah didn't look so surprised and came over. Wells was cautious when he walked up to Clarke. Clarke turned to Lincoln and the Grounders with him. "Sorry, Lincoln, I need to speak with my friends on the ground for a few seconds. Like I said in the forest, we don't really know you. So we need to make sure we can trust you." Lincoln nodded, bowing his head.

Clarke looked at Finn and Octavia. "Fill the others in on more please. We'll be right back."

Clarke didn't wait for their responses. She started going up the ladder, hearing Niylah, Wells and Monroe follow her. When all four of them were up on the ground, Clarke nodded to the forest, feet from the bunker, walking over to it. Again, the three companions with her followed. When the four of them were just at the edge of the forest, Clarke looked around the patch of forest they were near to see if she could see anyone hiding. She didn't. She turned to Monroe, Wells and Niylah who were facing her and she spoke quietly, whispering practically.

"This makes things really complicated," Clarke whispered to the other three in the group. "If everyone else at the dropship have been captured and are being held in the dungeons in Polis, then that means it will only a short time before they come looking for us. That is, if they know that there are eleven more people that came down in the ship that we dropped in." Clarke added before anyone could say anything else, "I don't like this, but if we have to, we might have to kill some of those Grounders if they get in the way of us getting to South America."

Niylah only nodded. Monroe's eyebrows lifted. She frowned and said, "I don't mind it if it's some of the others." There was almost a growl in Monroe's voice when she said it and Clarke wondered if it was about the things that Warmen and Kozar had said. "But Lincoln?" Monroe added. "Are we really going to kill Lincoln?"

Clarke shrugged. "If we have to."

Wells looked uncertain. "Monroe told me he was one of the better guys." He glanced at Niylah. "If this woman's here, then she remembers, right?" Clarke nodded.

"Okay," Wells sighed, nodding. "Then I'm with you on this decision, Clarke. But didn't Lincoln do everything he could for us?"

Clarke nodded. "He did. But there's a problem. He was Octavia's lover. We can't kill Octavia unless we want to kill him first and get him out of the way. And because Octavia's brother was taken by the commander's warriors, Octavia will want to rescue him and the other one hundred from Polis. And Lincoln will follow her anywhere. That's the problem."

Wells nodded, looking pained. He didn't like what Clarke was saying they had to do. But he understood it. If the Ark was to survive, it had to go down to where Clarke was instructing them to go down to. To South America. But going to this 'Floukru' tribe would interfere with that, wouldn't it? And the Floukru were one of the tribes under the Commander's rule. So that would defeat the purpose of what Clarke intended. For them to be free of the Commander.

And there would be no doing that if they ended up in one of the other tribes. It would be just like staying right here and waiting for the Trikru armies to take them to Polis to join the others in the dungeon.

Wells didn't like it at all. He firmly believed that loyalty should be rewarded. But in the long run, the many were more important than the few. That meant that the Ark had to come first before the one hundred being rescued. And from what Monroe told him, it didn't even really matter. They were all going to die in some horrible or dumb way anyhow. They never listened to Clarke, so most of them got killed. And since this Commander had betrayed them to the Mountain Men and she already had the one hundred in her hands, then there wasn't much point in hoping they were still alive, was there?

Wells didn't like the way he was thinking, but he knew that maybe there was no other choice. And Monroe had told him how the one hundred treated Clarke. She was an outsider to them. Just because she was a child of the privileged, they treated her like shit. And they never listened to her. Hundreds of people on the Ark died before the one hundred and fucking Bellamy got their shit together. In the long run, were the one hundred and Bellamy worth the trouble?

Wells had never thought about a group of people like that and knew it was a really negative and horrible way to think. But given what he had been told and what Clarke had been put through, Wells wasn't sure he could care.

It wasn't just that his father had been shot by Bellamy. And it wasn't just that he had been killed by that girl, Charlotte.

It was a lot more than that. Wells didn't give a damn about his dad or about him getting killed by Charlotte the last time. He knew what his father did and he couldn't stomach his father's decisions. It didn't matter who did it, but maybe his father should have been shot sooner. He knew who Charlotte was and he knew to avoid her now. But everything else? That was another story. Clarke had gone through so much. And at the end of it, she had been betrayed by someone she thought she could trust and brought to Pike, Shot in the head.

Bellamy had betrayed her. Wells's best friend. So no, Wells wasn't sure he really cared about Bellamy dying. Or any of the people with him dying.

Didn't they make their own path into this? Sure, they didn't do it this timeline, but if they weren't that different from the people they had been the last timeline, then what was the difference? They'd still make the choices they had made last time.

Wells was slightly creeped out by his thoughts, but given that he was thinking them after Clarke suggested they kill Octavia and Lincoln and the other Grounders, maybe he wasn't exactly the outlier in the group. "Niylah," Clarke said, looking at the older woman, "You are not upset or angered at other Trikru being killed for what is necessary?"

Niylah shook her head. She smiled at Clarke and Wells didn't doubt the affection in those eyes at all when Niylah looked at Clarke, "No, Klark. I am not. I will not question your reasons or try to dissuade you. I will help you. As you would like."

Clarke nodded, smiling. "Thanks, Niylah. We're lucky to have you with us."

Wells watched the exchange in front of him with fascination, since two things occurred that were very curious. The first thing was that Niylah was smiling at Clarke in such a warm way, her eyes shining with what Wells was sure was almost adoration. The second thing was that Monroe's eyes kept narrowing with every second Niylah showed Clarke this kind of attention.

While Wells really did have questions about how Niylah knew Clarke, it made him wonder what Monroe's relationship with Clarke was. Monroe claimed that she had actually been closer with Bellamy than with Clarke, but she and Clarke had gotten along. But that was the most of it. The way Monroe talked about Clarke and how she made her decisions and how brave she was when Monroe told Wells about all the things they went through in the other timeline, made Wells suspicious that there was more going on here than just Monroe being a concerned friend or just wanting the Ark to survive. Then there was Niylah. The Grounder woman made Wells question things for a number of reasons. One of them was how did she know Clarke. And another one was if Niylah was trustworthy. Wells had always been protective of Clarke. And he always would be as long as he stayed alive in this timeline. Clarke had always been protective of him, keeping him safe from bullies on the Ark who wanted to pick fights with him because he was the chancellor's son.

So Wells knew that he needed to make sure Clarke was safe. Wells knew that Clarke liked both girls and boys sexually. One of the times they had talked about who they might date on the Ark when a dance was coming up-four years before the same dance that Monroe said got the Blake siblings' mother killed because Bellamy insisted on taking Octavia to the dance, in fact, Wells had known and even joked without any mockery that maybe Clarke should take another girl to the dance instead of a boy.

The answer he got had been Clarke blushing and actually being quiet for a few seconds. Wells figured it out soon after and apologized to his thirteen-year-old friend. Turned out that Clarke was thinking of asking this girl out to the dance. The girl's name had been Angie. And Wells had gone with a girl named Jenny. The dance had been fun and nice. And Wells was sure after the end of the dance that Clarke had passionately kissed Angie. Or as passionately as a thirteen-year-old could.

So Wells knew from an early age that Clarke was attracted to both boys and girls. He had seen Clarke date boys too. So he knew. But none of it had been very serious. With neither the boys nor with the girls. But Clarke was bisexual. So any relationship that Clarke might have had with a girl in the other timeline wouldn't surprise him even a little. So the way Niylah was looking at Clarke and the way Monroe was reacting to it, made Wells wonder.

Niylah, had she and Clarke slept together? What about Monroe? Had she slept with Clarke too?

Wells wouldn't judge and didn't mind, but if that was the case, then he needed to make sure that his best friend was in good hands when it came to her sexual partners. Wells observed Monroe and Niylah closely. Monroe started speaking, her voice harsh and Wells suspected that Monroe didn't mean for her voice to be that harsh, "So how do we do this? Should we leave while the others are asleep? I mean, what about Pascal, Trina, Fox, Harper, Jasper, Finn and Monty?"

Clarke nodded. "I know, I know." Wells wasn't missing that Clarke's cheeks were a reddish tinge after she looked at Niylah's smiles. Clarke continued, "We all need to bring that radio with us. But if we can, we should bring the others except for Octavia and Lincoln's group with us. We'll try to bring them with. As for Octavia and Lincoln and Lincoln's group?" Clarke grimaced. She looked back at the bunker to see if anyone was coming out. When she saw no one was coming out of the bunker, she turned back to the other three. "How do people feel about planned homicide?"

Wells tried not to groan. The shock from realizing what Clarke was willing to do wearing off. So it was calculated murder, was it? That was their answer? Wells wanted to argue. Some very strong part of him wanted to advocate for another answer. But the question was, what other answer was there? Sure, they could wait till Lincoln and the others were asleep and sneak off. But it would lead to Pascal, Trina and the others asking questions. So that wasn't a good option.

And Wells couldn't think of anything else.

"Wait," Monroe said, startling Wells. "I'm for getting rid of Octavia, Lincoln and the others that might slow us down. But we might be able to do it without having to screw up this second chance by getting our hands dirty instantly." Clarke nodded, but Wells noticed a slight smirk on her lips. He wondered what that was about.

"What did you have in mind, Monroe?" Clarke asked, looking at the other girl.

Monroe's cheeks turned a light pink and she breathed out, "Well, if we can lead Octavia, Lincoln and Lincoln's group away from the rest of the others and let them lose track of us, then we can regroup and head to where we want to go."

Clarke frowned, thinking about this. "It sounds like a good plan." Clarke admitted. "But Lincoln and his friends are professional trackers. They've been trained." Clarke looked at Niylah. "Unless you know a way of outwitting them in the woods?"

Niylah nodded. "I can try. We would have to do it first chance we have. And we will have to make sure that none of the ones you want to take with us follow them."

Clarke nodded. "Trust me, I'm aware of this." Clarke frowned. "Wells, how long will that portable radio take?"

Wells thought about it. "I'd say up to an hour. Maybe two."

Clarke nodded. "Okay. Have it ready when you can have it ready. But we need to get it portable soon. And we have to bring supplies with all of us when we leave."

Monroe looked at the bunker. When she saw no one coming out, she turned back to the Clarke, Wells and Niylah. "There's another idea. We could do this without killing or without the others trying to follow us after we strand them. Does anyone know where those nuts are that make people hallucinate? We could feed them to Octavia and the others."

Clarke's eyes widened. That…was brilliant. "That sounds like a good idea." Clarke admitted. "The Jacobi nuts." She looked at Niylah. "Where do they grow?"

Niylah turned to Clarke. "Deeper in the forest. Near a river. To the west." Clarke froze. She thought about what river Niylah might have been talking about.

"Where?" Clarke asked. "Across from Mount Weather?" Niylah nodded. Clarke shook her head. "No way. I'm not letting anywhere near there. Not just because of the Mountain Men, but when we crossed that river last Jasper got a spear in his chest. That's not safe."

Niylah nodded, understanding. Wells and Monroe's eyes widened. "That's where it happened?" Monroe asked. "Damn."

Niylah said quietly, "This doesn't surprise me. The Commander has a patrol of warriors there to guard the river and make sure no one can come or go to or from the mountain."

Clarke choked down a loud, dark laugh. Of course it was the Commander's fault. It always was. Because of course Lexa had put a bunch of warriors by the river to throw spears at people just for going a few feet from where they were supposed to go. It all came to how badly Lexa, Anya, Clarke's mother, Kane, Octavia, Jasper and Bellamy fucked them over, didn't it? Bellamy and his thugs and Lexa and her people acted in ways that Clarke could only compare to mass murderers. The moment people who were different did one small thing they didn't like, those different people were dead to them.

Those thoughts brought a dark smirk to Clarke's face. Being this cynical brought everything that she knew before into question. About Octavia. About Jasper. About Lexa and Anya. About her mother. About Bellamy. About Kane. If Bellamy had been alone in the mountain when their people were suffering and being drilled at, and if Octavia hadn't been in danger at the time, would the lever ever have been pulled? If Monty and Bellamy had been the only two people in that room and Octavia hadn't been about to be shot by the guards, would Bellamy have ever pulled the lever? Or would he have just left his people to die horribly?

Because Clarke remembered. She remembered Bellamy trying to stop her, refusing to do it. He was willing to stand by and do nothing while people they knew and had fought next to were horribly tortured and killed. The only thing that had made the man act had been seeing Octavia in danger. That was it. If it hadn't been for Octavia being in danger and if Clarke hadn't been in the room at the time, would Bellamy have left all their people to die? Just for his conscience?

And what about when the Grounders had attacked them in the Trikru territory? When Bellamy had convinced everyone to stay? What were his reasons? Were they to protect his people, or was it all to just make sure that they protected HIM? If everyone fled the territory, then it would be everyone for themselves, and Bellamy would be vulnerable. But if he got everyone to stay and fight, then there would be a barrage of people keeping the Grounders from killing him. Had it all been just to protect himself and Octavia? Even Bellamy trading himself to Murphy for Jasper was now being called into question. Was that really to save Jasper's life, or had that been because Bellamy knew he was being watched?

He was watched by the other one hundred, so did he only hand himself over to Murphy so that he would LOOK like a good leader?

There were so many questions about other peoples' actions that Clarke was now questioning and analyzing with unforgiving distrust. Why trust any of them? Why trust any of their actions? In the end they all did the same thing. Only looked out for their own needs and wants. So who was to say every action they took wasn't already a false form of decency? Lexa and Anya both had promised both their peoples' safety and had walked away, leaving Clarke's people to die. Bellamy had promised to listen to Clarke and would help her and he had blamed her for everything all because he suffered from codependency on her and brought her to her death at Pike's hands.

Who was to say that they weren't always that way and that the previous actions were all just a matter of the situation being convenient enough to make Lexa, Anya and Bellamy look like good people? It was the situation, not the people making the decisions that were kind. It just turned out in Lexa's favor, Anya's favor and Bellamy's favor.

Clarke opened her mouth and a dark, raspy laugh exited her mouth. Her body shook with her laughter. She felt three pairs of eyes on her. "Clarke," Monroe asked, "You alright?"

"Yeah," Clarke laughed, trying to get her laughter to subside. She looked back at the bunker and no one came out. Still with the grin on her face, she turned back to Wells, Monroe and Niylah. "It's just really funny. Every time I think about all the different things Lexa, Anya, my mom and Bellamy did, I have to wonder if there was any decency to what they did at all. "That whole, 'whatever the hell we want' shit last time was only for Bellamy. That radio thing was only for his safety. Him killing three hundred people in their sleep for revenge? That was for him. I don't think Bellamy ever did one thing for another person selflessly. And Lexa and Anya?"

Clarke shrugged. "Hell, in Lexa and Anya's defense, Lexa had twelve tribes to run. And Anya was a general of a whole army and village. But I still gotta wonder about everything they did. Even the more decent things. Everything they did…forming the coalition, was that just to feel superior? I can't trust anything either of them did. Or what a lot of people did."

Wells stepped closer and looked down at her, trying to catch her eyes. "But you trust that we're on your side, right Clarke?" He asked gently.

Clarke was startled by that timid question and she nodded, a look of guilt flashing across her face. "I'm sorry, Wells. I didn't mean it like that. Yes, I trust you. I've just had bad experiences with other leaders." Wells nodded, still worried. He didn't blame her, but Clarke was so cynical now. So jaded and cold. He would follow her wherever she went. He was loyal to her and the safety of the Ark, not to Bellamy's thugs. But he was worried. Very worried.

Clarke looked at Niylah. "Niylah, is there anywhere else where these Jacobi nuts are?"

The braided woman nodded. "I know where another batch grows. It's closer by than the river. I can take you there."

Clarke nodded. "Thanks, Niylah." She turned to Wells and said to him. "Wells, can you and Monroe stay here with the others until we get back?"

Wells nodded. He didn't like Clarke being out there without him, but if she was going to go with someone else, someone who seemed to be very much in love with Clarke, then Wells guessed that she was safe. "I'll stay till you guys get back." Clarke smiled and Wells was relieved to see it wasn't that same cynical one as before. Wells glanced at Monroe and saw how Monroe was looking at Niylah and Clarke. Monroe definitely was narrowing her eyes in dislike of the situation.

Clarke looked at Monroe and only then did Monroe start looking less peeved by the circumstances. "Monroe," Clarke said gently, "You can stay here with Wells and the others?" Monroe nodded, forcing her angered face to look normal again. Her eyes softened as soon as she looked at Clarke.

Clarke seemed reassured. "Alright. Wells, please keep working on the radio. We need it working and portable. Neither of you tell anyone anything. Niylah and I will be back soon."

They got nods from both Monroe and Wells. Clarke started walking back to the bunker and looked inside. From what she could see, everyone was preoccupied either with talking with the new Grounders or looking at the radio. Some of the others were still gawking at the Grounders, but Clarke decided to make her decision known.

"Hey!" She yelled down, making several of the people down in the bunker jump. "Niylah and I are going looking for berries and other things we can pick. Wells and Monroe are going to stay here and help work on the radio. Can everyone stay here till Niylah and I get back?"

There were some startled looks. Finn said, "Maybe I should come." Clarke rolled her eyes. "No, Finn. I think I'll survive somehow without you. Niylah's the one coming with me. She knows the way there and back much better. Besides, she'll know the plants and berries that are safe way better than any of us from the Ark will know." She continued, "I don't want to hear any arguments. We'll be right back. Wells and Monroe are staying. So see you later."

Clarke didn't wait for the others to answer. She walked over to Niylah and said to her, nodding to the woods. "Let's go." Niylah started walking with her. Behind them, Wells and Monroe looked at each other. Wells looked down into the bunker to see if anyone was coming up to chase after Clarke and Niylah. He could see some disarray, but no one went to the ladder. Lincoln looked like he was accepting Clarke's decisions, even if he didn't like them.

Wells walked back from the bunker and got close to Monroe. "Monroe?" Wells said, "Can I talk with you for a second?" Monroe nodded, frowning. She and Wells went to the edge of the patch of grass where the bunker was. Monroe looked at where Clarke and Niylah were disappearing into the forest. Wells started speaking, "Monroe, I need to ask a question. Do you have feelings for Clarke?" Monroe turned her head to Wells, her face practically snapping to look at him, green eyes staring. Wells smiled, shrugging. "It's okay. I won't judge. Clarke's bisexual. She wouldn't be offended. So again, I'm just curious, do you have feelings for her?"

He added at Monroe's hesitance, "I don't want you to think I'm interrogating you. I'd just like to know. Clarke's like my sister. I'm just looking out for her."

Monroe sighed, nodding. Her body was still tense, but her fists loosened up. She was already uneasy enough, seeing how Niylah acted around Clarke. It was hard, knowing that someone felt that strongly for Clarke and Monroe knew she couldn't say a word because she felt like she had nothing to offer. But if Wells already knew or suspected, then there wasn't really much point in hiding it, was there?

Monroe nodded. "Yeah. Yah caught me. I don't just have feelings for her, okay? I love her. I think that I've loved her for a really long time, since the other timeline." Wells stared at Monroe, hearing that strong statement. He looked at Monroe's green eyes and she looked damn serious.

"Shit." He said, surprised. "You mean that?"

Monroe nodded. "I've been in relationships before. I never felt anything even close to the people I was with like I do with Clarke."

Wells shivered at how intense Monroe's words and how intense Monroe's eyes were when she said that. Was she totally honest? Wells didn't know. But Monroe looked it. He nodded. "Okay." He said. "But if you ever hurt Clarke-"

"I won't." Monroe said, nodding. "But if I do? I'd want you to kick my ass or kill me."

Wells was startled by the strong statements. Damn. Monroe was really serious about her feelings when it came to Clarke. She wasn't joking around. Monroe might be a total stranger to Wells, but she obviously was in love. Or thought that she was in love. But she seemed loyal. Very loyal.

Wells nodded. "Then I guess we can work together."

Monroe smirked. "What about you?" She asked, eyes narrowing.

Wells frowned. "Excuse me? What about me?"

Monroe shrugged, "Just because you've known Clarke longer doesn't mean that I trust you entirely either. Would you hurt Clarke? Didn't someone rat Clarke's father out to your dad?" Wells's eyes widened. "And you think it was me? No, dammit. It was Abby, Clarke's mom. I'd never do something like that to Clarke. I was going to keep the thing with the Ark a secret. I swear. Clarke's like my sister, just like I said. I'd never do that to her."

Monroe's eyes widened, thinking about what Wells just told her. Clarke's mom? Clarke's mom was the one that sold out Clarke's dad? That…that was just fucked up. From what Monroe could see, Wells wasn't making it up. After a few seconds, Monroe burst into a quiet, shocked laugh, "Holy shit. And I thought I was raised badly. Clarke's dad was killed by Clarke's mom? That's so messed up. Does Clarke know?" Almost as soon as Monroe said it, she felt like a moron. Because of COURSE Clarke fucking knew. That explained everything Monroe had heard Clarke snarl into the radio to her mother. She hadn't heard all of it, but it sure as fuck explained Clarke's anger.

Wells nodded. "Yeah, she knows. She told me on the dropship that she knows. I'm guessing she found out in the last timeline."

Monroe shook her head, really thinking about something this awful. She knew that Clarke and Dr. Griffin had a complicated relationship. But she hadn't thought it was that bad. Turns out it was a lot worse than she had thought. Monroe tried not to growl. What a bitch. She had seen how Dr. Griffin treated Clarke when she didn't respect Clarke's authority. When Clarke did things that Dr. Griffin didn't agree with. The things she had heard Dr. Griffin say to Clarke weren't just cruel. They were just plain awful. From not seeing Clarke as her daughter anymore, to disregarding Clarke's authority-it just drove Monroe up the wall.

"And I thought Dr. Griffin sucked before." She said to Wells. Wells looked surprised by Monroe's sneer. He nodded. He supposed Abby must have done a few things that Monroe hadn't agreed with in the other timeline.

He shrugged, smirking, "What are you going to do? It's more of a reason why Clarke should be in control and not people like her mom and my dad." Monroe nodded. Wells sighed. "Well, speaking of my dad and Clarke's mom, I should start working on the radio again." He began to walk over to the bunker.

Deep in the forest, Niylah and Clarke had reached the next few batches of close growing trees. They walked past roots, mushrooms, bushes and small creeks. Clarke looked at Niylah. "Niylah, can you tell if we're being watched or followed?"

Niylah paused and listened closely. She eventually shook her head. Clarke nodded, relieved. She smiled. Back in the other timeline, Clarke had learned how to listen for danger and sense eyes on her. But she trusted Niylah's ability more than her own. Niylah had been taught to do this her whole life. Clarke still tried to sense any other presence around them. She felt nothing. Good.

They were safe. For now. Clarke nodded to Niylah, still walking. It was time to find these nuts and leave Lincoln, his friends and the moron, Octavia stranded.

Clarke knew it was wrong, but she felt a twinge of pleasure knowing the pain and abandonment Octavia was going to feel when she was left in the woods, high on Jacobi nuts. It would be really funny. It was a pity she would have to take off soon after and get away from them and wouldn't be able to watch Octavia run around, screaming and crying.

Clarke tried not to chuckle. So she had gotten kind of sadistic since the last timeline. Clarke knew that she should probably be worried about feeling that sadistic. But she didn't. She had seen enough to know that she shouldn't feel any pity for Octavia, for Murphy, for Charlotte, for Bellamy, for Lexa, for Anya, for Titus, for Gustus, for her mom, for ANY of them.

She was going to do what she needed to do. And if she enjoyed herself while she did it? Then hell yes, she'd do it. Just like she'd enjoy it when she and Niylah eventually fucked again. Clarke smirked at that and watched Niylah moving along the ground with the grace of a large, predatory cat. Clarke had not forgotten how Niylah felt on top of her. How Niylah easily rolled Clarke over onto her back and had straddled her. Or how hungrily and tenderly Niylah had put her mouth between Clarke's legs.

Clarke shivered at the memory. It hadn't even happened in this timeline yet, but Clarke remembered it so vividly. She remembered what Niylah said back at her post. She wanted a relationship with Clarke. Clarke knew, not just for the sexual fun part, she might actually consider taking Niylah up on the offer. She hadn't just enjoyed herself. She had felt safe with Niylah.

Clarke had realized that safety was a rare thing for her to experience over time. Just when she thought she was safe at other times, it would lead to her being betrayed and eventually killed. But with Niylah? There had been no betrayal. No deception. Niylah had kept Clarke's secret from anyone who came by the trading post, asking about Wanheda. She had healed Clarke and never gave her up. Clarke was cautious to admit it since she was more and more distrustful by the second, but Clarke knew that she actually felt safe with the other woman.

Clarke's chest hurt. She wanted to have a sexual relationship with Niylah again. Maybe one day it could form into something more.

Clarke tried to ignore that thought for now. They needed to find the Jacobi nuts. She said quietly to the older woman, "So you know how to find the nuts?" She asked, knowing it was silly, since she was asking the obvious thing. Niylah nodded. "Sha, I do. I've even made the mistake of eating them at one time." Clarke almost stumbled in her steps, thinking about what Niylah told her. She stifled a laugh. Seriously? Niylah had eaten Jacobi nuts?

Clarke could just feel a laugh about to jump out of her mouth. That…..was a really funny thought. She smirked, looking at Niylah. Niylah shared her humor, as she had the same smirk on her face. "I was wandering around Jameson, the town closest to Polis for almost a whole hour before my mother came and brought me back to the house."

Clarke almost burst out laughing at the visual. Then she thought about what Niylah just said. Niylah's mother? Niylah's mother had been taken by the mountain. Clarke glanced at the older woman and Niylah answered, "It was obviously before my mother was taken. I was of eight summers." Again, Clarke found that really funny, even with the sobering mention of Niylah's mother. Niylah had experienced a very trippy life even before her teenage years. That was funny.

She smirked at Niylah. "At least you didn't think you were a broom."

Niylah cocked her head. "A broom?"

Clarke nodded. "One of the other one hundred, Connor, I think? He thought he was a broom. The thing you sweep with. And he wanted people to keep telling him he was the most beautiful broom in a closet of brooms." Clarke added, chuckling, "I wasn't there for that, but I was told later on."

Niylah smirked. She and Clarke kept walking and Niylah nodded, satisfaction her face. "Klark, you have what you want." She gestured to the bushes where there were dark blue flowers all over the green arms. There were roots sticking out, nuts along the bushes' roots that were in shells that were shaped like oyster shells.

Clarke recognized the shells instantly. She grinned, looking at Niylah. "Great. Let's gather all of these. How are we going to feed them to the others? Lincoln and his friends will recognize them."

Niylah nodded. "Simple. We grind the nuts up and put them in the water supply. Or in the meat."

Clarke smirked. That was a good idea. She walked to the bush and started picking the nuts, pulling the shells from the roots. Niylah opened up the leather pouches she had strapped to her leather belt so that Clarke could put the nuts in.


	9. Everything is really so funny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for abuse and using underage girls as possessions. And warnings for a kind of traumatized reaction on Clarke's part.

Walking away from the bushes, their small sacks tied to their belts bulging with the many gathered Jacobi nuts, Clarke and Niylah tied the sacks. Clarke walked, smirking, still trying not to think about everything that had been done to her, but couldn't help it. How could anyone forget being cut down, harassed, threatened, bullied, told that they weren't good enough, betrayed more than once, told that they were the reason why so much death had occurred and then betrayed again, then shot in the fucking head? Clarke had to wonder if anyone even had been sad that she had been shot in the other timeline. Probably not. The only reason why they would have been sad would have been because someone they needed and benefitted from was dead.

It was always "save us, Clarke," "do this for us, Clarke," "do that for us, Clarke," "oh, you can't leave and try to help your mental state. We need you too much. You left? You don't deserve our love." "Never forget you owe us." It was always what Clarke could give her mom, Kane, Bellamy, Octavia, Jasper, the people on the Ark, the one hundred and Lexa's people. It was never about her. She was a tool to all of them. That was all she ever would be to them.

She was nothing but a tool to them when Jaha had her sent down and her mother had done nothing and had expected her to baby the rest of the one hundred as soon as she got down. Her mother had expected her to baby a bunch of babies. Even though Clarke was only seventeen when she had been sent down. Clarke snickered. Just how sick was Abby Griffin? How mentally ill did someone have to be to have those delusions?

Then there was the one hundred and Bellamy. She was just a healer to them. A band-aide and medicine giver. She fixed the boo-boos and was supposed to just bring food when people wanted food. And when people felt down, like they were in a bad state of mind, then all people like Bellamy, Octavia, Murphy, Dax, Connor and the rest of those thugs had to do was use her as their personal verbal punching bag and remind her how she was different and that her mother and Wells's father sent her down. Then Charlotte murdered her best friend and expected to still be babied. What a psychopath.

And that piece of trash, Murphy would have killed both her and Wells as soon as he got the chance. If he really was in the Grounders' hands right now, then Clarke hoped to any deity that might exist that he was suffering slowly.

Octavia just wanted attention. She didn't give a damn about who lived and who died. Her value in people only counted as long as those people cared about HER. When Octavia wasn't bouncing from one man to the next, from Jasper, to Finn, to Atom, to Jasper again, to Lincoln, she was sneering about how she felt like the Ark people deserved to die, all millions of them just because she had been treated unfairly. And as soon as what she thought were a "better people" showed up, she bowed her head submissively for anything the Trikru wanted from her.

Jasper? Jasper, what a joke. He was weak. He was as weak as the one hundred came. Jasper wanted to get in a girl's pants so bad that as soon as the Mountain Men's girl Maya showed up, Jasper was faster than a cheetah to defend the Mountain Men and say that Clarke was the danger instead of trying to keep them safe. That wasn't even thinking about what Clarke realized now, which was that the war wouldn't have started without Jasper. Jasper had been the one to open fire at the bridge when she and Anya had met to speak and talk about a possible peace. If Jasper hadn't opened fire at the bridge, then the war would never have happened.

And he had the audacity to tell her that she was the danger in the Mountain? Clarke smirked. If Jasper wanted to die so badly, then he could. Who was she to stop him?

It was the same with Miller, who had been even faster to call her ungrateful, even though she was just trying to protect them. So why save them?

Raven? As much as Clarke appreciated Raven, there were things Clarke had to think about when it came to that girl. Telling Clarke to kill the Commander if Clarke couldn't save Finn? That was insane. She knew that Raven was desperate to protect Finn, who was her only family, but even Raven couldn't be THAT insane to think that they wouldn't all be dead as soon as Clarke killed Lexa. Even if Clarke somehow got NEAR enough to Lexa to kill her without getting her head taken off, via Anya, Gustus, Indra or Lexa herself, there was no way that the Grounders wouldn't slaughter every Sky Person in camp as soon as their Commander was dead. Finn would just have been ONE of many killed.

Or Raven blaming her for leaving? Really? Clarke wasn't allowed to take care of her mental problems? Apparently the only people allowed to have mental problems and take care of them the way they needed to be taken care of were people NOT named Clarke.

Her mother? When Abby didn't get her way then all she decided she needed to do to make her point was tell Clarke, her daughter that Clarke wasn't her daughter anymore. Sure, Abby was the reason why Clarke was on the ground in the first place, but why would Abby pay attention to a detail like that? It would mean that Abby would have to take responsibility and realize that Clarke wasn't the only one at fault. It would mean that Abby Griffin would have to start acting like an adult.

Kane? Kane was just as responsible for them being down here, but he wasn't an idiot. He just knew he had to obey if he wanted any authority. He was a smart piece of shit, she'd give him that.

The rest of the Ark people? As long as Clarke had something they wanted, that was all they were interested in. She was a tool to save them and when she wasn't there to obey them all the time they instantly thought she was a traitor. Poor babies.

Lexa? God, she was such a joke. Lexa only cared about one thing. Her power. She only kept her people safe for appearances. Any promise from her was as brittle as old, dying leaves. Nothing she said was to be trusted. She took what she wanted and used and then discarded. That was what she was good at.

Anya? Sure, Anya could be different. But she was too loyal to Lexa. The sad thing was that Clarke wasn't sure she could trust Anya, even though she might want to trust Anya the most out of all the people that had done wrong to her.

The rest of the Grounders? Fuck them. They would have killed every person in the camp, all to get one murderer when they came to get Finn and kill him inhumanly. They would have killed all of the Ark people, just to kill ONE man. If that didn't stand out to anyone as people undeserving of being saved from the Mountain Men, then Clarke didn't know who did besides the one hundred and the Ark people themselves. Not that Clarke would ever tell Niylah this. She intended to have a good, sexual relationship with Niylah. And if that meant keeping all of this secret, then she would.

And then the big, juicy abuser. The world's biggest sack of shit. Bellamy Blake. The mass murderer. Clarke was a mass murderer too. But the difference between her and Bellamy? She admitted she was. She didn't try to pretend that the blood on her hands was because of someone else. She knew what she was. She was a murderer. A monster. But so was Bellamy. It was just that he was too high and mighty to admit it.

It was funny, because Bellamy became exactly what he accused Clarke of being when they first got down here the last timeline. He claimed that she was high and mighty and arrogant. But he was the most arrogant piece of shit on the face of the planet. Because of Bellamy Blake, a radio had been thrown into the river and 300 people had died on the Ark for the conserving of oxygen. Because of Bellamy Blake, three hundred people had been killed in their sleep all for revenge. Because of Bellamy Blake, the peace that Clarke had worked on in Polis with Anya and Lexa had been jeopardized because people distrusted the Sky People because of what Pike and Bellamy did to the three hundred people in the field outside of their camp.

And in the end, who did Bellamy blame? Did he blame himself, or Pike, or the Azgeda or even the Trikru? No. In the end, Bellamy had blamed HER. The same person that was trying to save his ungrateful ass, the same person that was trying to save all the Sky Peoples' ungrateful asses, and he blamed her. So if someone did that, after murdering three hundred people in their sleep for revenge and killing three hundred people by throwing a radio into the water, all to save his life, all for selfish reasons, was he worth saving? Were any of them worth saving? No. They weren't.

So lo and behold, she would leave them to their deaths. If there was any justice in the world, which Clarke doubted, then the one hundred and Bellamy were slowly dying torturous deaths.

As much as some part of Clarke would have liked to carry out those tortures and executions herself, she knew she couldn't. None of them could risk going into Polis. That would risk being captured. Clarke couldn't allow that.

Still, her hateful thoughts came off to her as more funny than horrifying. Because wasn't it funny? Wasn't it hilarious? It was like the world's biggest joke that blew up in her face. She tried to save one group of people, they were ungrateful and would turn on her. She tried to save them again, they were ungrateful and instead listened to the Mountain Men. She tried to unite two peoples to stop the bigger threat, the Mountain Men and she was turned against by the people she thought would get her people out. She killed hundreds of people for her people and she was blamed for everything, even though someone else killed three hundred people. Yet still, people expected her to do as they said. To be their tool.

The type of tool didn't matter, as long as she was their tool. Physician, leader, council member, ambassador. It didn't matter. As long as she was a tool for the people to manipulate so that they never had to work.

She had been betrayed the moment she came to Earth. Even before then, she had been. By her mother, Jaha and Kane. The moment she had become an inconvenience, she had been used to look after the other kids even though she had been only seventeen, was still now, only seventeen. She had been used as a nanny for the one hundred, till the Ark got down. She and Bellamy were supposed to be substitute leaders until the "grown-ups" took over. And for Bellamy she was supposed to be the nanny that could be blamed and tossed aside.

Clarke felt her anger and emptiness start to become strong. But with it? There was just amusement. Morbid, broken amusement. She started giggling then, shaking and grinning. Oh god, it was so funny. It was so, so fucking funny. It was like the most hilarious damn joke in the whole fucking world! Had she ever been appreciated in her life? Had she ever been free? Had she ever even been loved?

She didn't know anymore. She wasn't sure she ever had been. By any of them.

"Klark?" Niylah asked gently, coming closer to the younger. She looked at Clarke with worry. "Are you alright?"

Clarke nodded, grinning. "Yeah. I'm fine, Niylah. I'm great. In fact I'm just perfect. I think it's just funny that I've been betrayed and used since before I even got to the ground. I know this because of everything that happened in the other timeline."

Niylah came closer and said softly, "What do you mean?"

Clarke giggled and she tried to see if Niylah was disturbed by the noise. Niylah did not move back or looked uncomfortable at all. The amused and pained laughter continued. Clarke grinned. "My mother killed my father. She told our leader on the Ark that my father knew something he wasn't supposed to and my father was killed for it. And because I knew it too, they sent me down to Earth to be a test subject to see if Earth was livable." Clarke's grin widened. "I was just a tool to be used. And when everyone came down, I was just supposed to step aside and let everyone from the Ark take over."

Clarke glanced at Niylah and watched as the older blonde woman's shoulders tensed and her eyes darkened. "Your people did that to you?" She asked, and Clarke recognized the anger. Clarke nodded. "Amongst other things. Amongst other people that turned on me. Remember what the Commander did? And then there was the betrayal that led to my death."

It hurt. Every last detail to recount hurt. But god, it really was so, so, SO fucking funny! How could no one be laughing at this? She sure as hell had to laugh.

Clarke's laughter spilled all around Clarke and Niylah, her body still shaking. Clarke froze when she felt arms surround her body, wrapping around her chest and back, pulling her against Niylah's chest. Niylah rested her head against Clarke's head. "I'm so sorry, Klark." Niylah said to the younger, voice softer than Clarke remembered the voice ever sounding. "I'm so sorry you went through this. I know that you did everything you could. And that you never wanted anything except the safety of your people."

Clarke felt the warmth of Niylah's body and her teeth clenched, the older woman's words softening the anger that Clarke felt so strongly. Niylah whispered to Clarke, "It's not your fault." Those words were exactly what made Clarke slump against Niylah's chest, shaking again, this time from the pain that washed over her, tears flowing from her eyes into Niylah's neck and hair. Eventually, she pushed the gun down, the barrel aiming at the ground and laying limply against Clarke's side and hugged Niylah back. Her arms wrapped around Niylah's back and she rested her head against Niylah's shoulder as she cried.

Clarke cried against Niylah, realizing that this was what she wanted. This was the only thing she really wanted. Someone just to hold her and tell her that she had done her hardest and that she was a good leader for trying her hardest. That was all. So she couldn't give more than her hardest, so what? Everyone else wanted more than her hardest, than her last breath. They wanted everything. They wanted her to give up everything for them. She HAD given up everything, but that still wasn't enough. The Grounders, the Ark people, Lexa, Anya, Jasper, Octavia, her mother, Kane, Bellamy, they all wanted so much more than she could give.

They wanted everything. Her obedience. Her skills. Her submission. Her strength. Her time. Her energy. Her love. Her life. Her skin. Her hair. Her eyes. Her teeth. Her hands. Her heart. Her lungs. Her bones. Her blood. Her sweat. Her muscles. Her death.

They wanted everything and she had stupidly given and given till it led to her death. And still, they likely would have wanted more. None of it would be enough to them, ever. They still would want more, no matter what it was. If it was her, then they'd take it without care.

Clarke couldn't stop the sobs from continuing and it felt the entirety of all her problems and pain were spilled out now against Niylah's body. Clarke's freedom and happiness meant nothing to any of the people she thought cared about her. What did that mean? That they never loved her? That they didn't care if she was happy, free or safe? And even if they DID love her, they obviously didn't love her enough. Continuing to expect someone give up everything for them wasn't a relationship. That wasn't love.

Clarke dried her eyes against Niylah's neck, sniffling. "I'm sorry." She said to the older woman. "I'm sorry, I'm getting you soaked, Niylah."

She heard a soft chuckle. "It's alright, Klark." Niylah promised the younger. "It will dry. You're more important than any wet skin. You deserve far more than what you got. Shh." Clarke cried harder and just let Niylah hold her.

Clarke felt all the anger, the resentment, the pain, the betrayal flow out at Niylah's permission. Clarke didn't know how she got so lucky right now. If she got a knife in the chest or the stomach, then that would be the end or a new time loop. Or she would just die. Either way, it would be a mercy. But if this was genuine? Then how lucky had Clarke gotten to have someone hold her and tell her that she HAD tried hard enough and that she wasn't at fault?

No one had ever done that for her before. Whether she got killed and it was the end or she started over and fled, or if Niylah truly meant her words and meant her affection, just how lucky had Clarke gotten?

Clarke knew that it was ridiculous to see herself as lucky when everything else had fallen apart and this was the first time anyone had ever told her that she had done enough and that they didn't hate her. But it was a start.

Almost an eternity went by and Clarke felt the tears starting to dry up, she slowly moved away from Niylah and felt the older woman release her. Niylah stepped back, stroking her fingers against Clarke's right cheek, wiping away the tears. "Are you alright now, Klark kom Skaikru?" Niylah asked Clarke.

Clarke nodded, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand. "Yeah. Thank you. I feel a little better. We should go back to the others. If we don't get back soon, they'll get suspicious."

Niylah nodded. Clarke smiled, trying to keep her emotions under control. Niylah had been the first person to tell her she was enough and that she was a good leader. No one else had done that. How sad was that? No one else had told her she had done enough. Not her mom. Not Octavia. Not Lexa. Lexa just kept expecting her to do more and would lecture her extensively if Clarke didn't do exactly as Lexa expected. Bellamy? Hah. He made her feel like she had done enough, then as soon as things got hard for him, he blamed everything on her, even though his hands were even more bloodstained than hers were. She might have killed three hundred warriors in the ring of fire and killed hundreds and hundreds in the mountain, but adding the Mountain Men, Charlotte, and the radio that Bellamy threw into the water, and the three hundred Bellamy had killed in their sleep, his hands were way more stained than hers were. Then there was that pleasant moment he handcuffed her to the pipes and sold her out to Pike in second.

So no. No one had ever told her that she was a good leader and that she had done enough. And when they did, they didn't mean it. Boy, did they not mean it. If Niylah meant it, then this might be the one time she felt like she was lucky. She'd remember it.

She nodded to Niylah. "I guess we should go now." She started walking and an unflustered, calm Niylah followed. Clarke wasn't sure she'd be able to act tough and angry to Niylah anymore. Not only had Niylah seen her in her more desperate state, needing sex to forget some of the horrors she had experienced and seen, but now, had witnessed her bawl her eyes out like a baby.

She had a hard time believing that Niylah would be able to take her that seriously now after that.

She knew that she had to accept the way things were. She was used and hated by all the people that she thought cared about her. So she had to abandon them. For her sake. They weren't worth the trouble. She had to hold onto the few people that might care about her. Wells, Niylah and Monroe. Maybe others later. But she wouldn't know until then. Right now, she had to be a cold and unfeeling fortress. She had to get her emotions back in order.

She had to pretend that she was in control and that she knew what she was doing. Even if it was mostly a lie.

But she'd manage. Both Clarke and Niylah kept walking and found the bunker again. On the grass, Monroe, Fox and Pascal were working on cooking the bear's body. Clarke grinned at them, almost forgetting her pain for now. "Hey, guys!" She said. "Things going well here?" The three of them nodded. Monroe smiled at Clarke and watched Niylah. Clarke and Niylah went down the ladder. Wells and Monty were working on the radios and the device to wire the radios to. Lincoln was speaking with Octavia and Octavia looked totally infatuated. Clarke suspected, as she and Niylah got down from the ladder that the word "infatuation" was closer to what Octavia felt with anyone than actually being in love.

Octavia didn't have the depth to fall in love with anyone. Clarke seriously doubted that she had that much depth. Clarke felt a mild shred of guilt for thinking this way about everyone. But after everything and the torrent of torment that she just went through in Niylah's arms back in the woods, Clarke knew that even a little mercy was not a good idea.

She had to cut the bad things out of her life. If those bad things were people, then fine. Clarke watched Octavia looking infatuated with her newest obsession. She looked funny. Like someone who just saw a brand new puppy. Maybe that really was how it was for Octavia. She didn't see people as people, she just saw them as possessions. Animals. Toys. Again, she was so much like her brother. Her brother probably didn't see any of his "soldier kids" as anything other than possessions. His girl toys, Roma and Bree were the same. She wondered how much of a possession she was to the two Blake siblings. If they ever understood if she was allowed to have a life outside of them.

Clarke, with a smirk, turned to the others. Finn was smiling at her, then sent a distrustful look to Niylah. Jasper and Harper were worriedly shifting on their feet, looking from different Grounders to others. Trina was behind Monty, looking at Monty and Wells's work. Clarke said to the two boys working on the radio, "How are we doing?"

Wells lifted his head and smiled. "Almost done, I think. Got everything you wanted to get?"

Clarke shook her head. "Many berries. So we'll have some nice berry sauce with the bear. And how long do you think it will take before the radio is done?" Clarke was sure that Wells would understand the question. That she was wondering how long it would take before they could drug Octavia, Lincoln and the other Grounders and get out of here. Wells nodded and Clarke was sure she saw the understanding in his dark brown eyes.

"It will only take another twenty minutes. Give or take. We'll have a working and transportable radio in only twenty minutes."

Clarke nodded, smiling. "Great. Thank you, Wells. It means so much to me."

Wells's dark cheeks turned a deep dark red and he nodded, smiling at her. "It's okay, Clarke. I'd do it again in a second. So we're going on an adventure?" Wells had a grin on his face. "We'll have a way of reporting to the Ark fast."

Clarke smiled, impressed. "Just keep in mind, Wells, you and Monty need to eat. The radio might be a machine, but neither of you are machines. So don't forget to eat. The bear will be ready soon."

Wells nodded. When Wells went back to work, Clarke decided to check around before putting the plan in motion. She looked at Trina. "Everything okay with you?" Trina nodded. "Yeah. I think so. Pascal wanted to help with the cooking, since he's always had fantasies about being a good cook, but there's no real food on the Ark. So he just has had fantasies. So he really wanted to be with Monroe to help." Clarke smirked, nodding. That was nice. It was sad that she hadn't gotten to know Pascal and Trina before in the other timeline. They seemed nice. But nice didn't mean they were useful. Maybe they'd be useful, maybe they wouldn't be. Clarke couldn't think about 'nice' anymore. She just nodded to Trina and told her that was cool and went to Harper and Jasper to check on them.

Both Jasper and Harper were alright and they didn't look like they were going to try to come up the ladder anytime soon. Good. Monty and Wells were busy with the radios. Octavia was busy gushing over Lincoln and the other Grounders were down here.

Then Clarke checked with Finn. She looked him in the eye. "Finn, do you mind staying right here? I want to make sure that the bear is cooked well enough. And I'd like it if you stayed here." When Finn bristled, looking like he was about to protest, Clarke leaned forward and whispered, "Please, I'd like it if your protected Octavia. She's too trusting of these people. Could you please watch over her?" She made sure to give Finn pleading eyes for convincing.

After only a few seconds, Finn sagged, nodding. "Okay." He said, nodding. "I'll do that. I'll make sure Octavia's safe."

Clarke nodded, making her smile as elaborate as possible so that Finn would be fooled. "Thank you, Finn. I know I've been a jerk, but I need you to be there when we need you. Like we all need to be there for each other." Clarke felt an odd sense of pleasure at fooling Finn. She had been fooled by all of them, including Finn when he didn't tell Clarke about Raven. He had hurt them both. Wasn't he just as responsible as the others for her pain and her troubles?

Her messing with his head was justice. Sure, she had killed him, but only to protect him from a torturous death. If he hadn't been such a dumbass, then he wouldn't have needed a quick death in the first place. When Clarke was sure that Finn was going to do as he said he'd do, she turned to Niylah and nodded up the ladder. "Can we go up to the ground and check on the meat. Don't want it to get too burnt."

Niylah nodded, a smirk just beginning to form on the older woman's face. "I understand." She walked to the ladder and started going up it. Clarke followed.

When they were out of the bunker and were walking to the bear on the spit, Clarke looked at Fox. "Hey, Fox? Can you go down to the bunker? I want to make sure when the other Grounders come back that everyone's safe. My gun will be enough." Clarke cradled the gun close. "Want to make sure that you're safe and that you won't get caught in the crossfire when the bullets start shooting." Fox gulped and nodded. It didn't take much to convince the girl to go hiding. She stood up and went to the bunker fast.

Clarke looked at Pascal. Pascal frowned and shook his head. "I'm not going in. I'm not scared of Grounders." Clarke tried not to laugh. The boy's tough act was funny. Impressively funny. He was putting on a good show, as he knew he was supposed to as any boy taught strict gender roles were taught. "Be a man." "Be tough." But this wasn't a world for gender roles. Women were murderers, warriors and warlords and men were the foot soldiers and spies. This was the real world. And the real world didn't have time for the strict gender roles that prevailed on the Ark.

Clarke nodded. "I have no doubt, Pascal. But since I'd like to talk with this Grounder about plans for where we go to escape the Commander's people, I think this Grounder trusts me and only me. She knows that only one person needs to be here to look after the meat. But the less people here the better."

Clarke nodded to Niylah. Niylah didn't seem offended by Clarke's use of her and Clarke's uneasiness that she might lose some support started rising in her chest. But it was taken away when Niylah nodded to Pascal. "If you don't mind, Paskaal. I would feel better if only one other person besides Klark heard this."

Pascal looked put out by this decision but he grumbled and nodded. He went past them to the bunker. When he went down, Clarke turned to Monroe and Niylah who were looking at her. She nodded to the bear. "How's the bear cooking, Monroe?"

Monroe shrugged. "I'd say it needs just twenty-seven more minutes."

"Okay," Clarke said, looking at her father's watch. "Wells thinks the radios will be done after twenty minutes. We need to get the sauce ready to drug everyone. Monroe, cut out some pieces that aren't touched by the sauce. Those pieces will be mine, yours, Niylah, Wells, Pascal, Trina, Fox, Harper, Finn, Jasper and Monty's."

Monroe nodded and started getting to work. She used the shelled off pieces of bark, putting them next to the fire, to use them eventually as plates. Clarke watched the bunker to make sure no one came out and saw what they were doing. She took turns between looking at the bunker and looking around the forest for Lincoln's other friends. Monroe started turning the bear, using a pair of metal tools Clarke assumed Lincoln's friends gave the other girl. Niylah pulled out some of the water and took one of the rounder pieces of bark. She sat down in front of it and filled the bark with some of the water. She then grabbed a small, but lengthy stone and dropped some of the berries into the bowl and grounded up the berries with the water. She then took the sack filled with the Jacobi nuts, took some of them out and unshelled the nuts, tossing the shells into the bushes and putting the nuts into the bark bowl.

She started to grind the nuts inside up.

Clarke went closer to Monroe, checking the forest out. She saw no other Grounder. And with the trained hearing that she knew to use, even though she hadn't gone through that training yet, she listened in. She leaned close to Monroe, noticing the smile that was on Monroe's face while she tended to the cooking bear meat. "Enjoying working on the poor bear?" She asked, chuckling.

Monroe smirked and nodded. "It's cooking. I enjoy it." Clarke nodded, still a little surprised by this information. She never would have thought that cooking was something one of the 'rough around the edges' delinquents would enjoy doing. But here Monroe was, cooking and looking like she was loving doing it. Pascal had looked interested too. But Clarke hadn't known him as well.

"I didn't know you liked cooking so much." Clarke admitted to Monroe.

Monroe shrugged, "It wasn't like there was much to cook on the Ark. And I didn't know back then. So when I started cooking whenever we got some animals to cook or some vegetables to cook, I really liked it. It's relaxing. Also, makes me useful."

Clarke chuckled. "You'd be useful, even if you didn't know how to cook."

Monroe smiled, that slight pink tinge in her cheeks again. "Thanks." She said quietly. She sliced away a few hocks of meat that were now a light pink instead of the fresh red it had been before the fire touched the meat. Clarke looked around the forest again. She heard and saw nothing. She looked at the bunker. No one was coming out. She turned to Niylah. They had to do this very carefully. They had to make sure that none of the pieces of nuts got into the meat served for Clarke, Niylah, Monroe, Monty, Jasper, Wells, Pascal, Trina, Harper, Finn and Fox. The eleven of them could not have even a little of the Jacobi nuts.

Those things were powerful. Even something as small as just one of them could make someone fall over themselves, seeing things. Grinding them up so that people couldn't make out what they were, wouldn't stop them being extremely potent. So not even a little could get in the eventual leaving eleven's food. When Niylah made enough "sauce" to put on the meat, Monroe pushed some of the pieces of bark with the meat to her. Niylah spilled some of the liquid over the meat. Monroe pushed another piece of bark with meat on it to her. This was done ten times. One for all of Lincoln's friends and one for Lincoln and one for Octavia.

Monroe looked at her and Niylah's handiwork and said to Clarke, looking worried, "How are we going to get only Lincoln, Octavia and Lincoln's friends to eat this? You know how Jasper, Monty, Finn, Fox and Harper are." Clarke nodded. That was a good question. And knowing Jasper, Monty, Finn, Fox and Harper, they would want to jump on the first piece of food as soon as they saw it.

"I've got an idea." Clarke said. She turned to Monroe and told her, "Get some other pieces of the meat ready. Don't put any of the sauce on it. Those are for us." Monroe nodded. Clarke walked over to the bunker and called down, "Lincoln, could you and your friends come up, please? I don't think there's anyone in the woods, but I just would like to make sure." She made sure to make her voice sound timid. "Lincoln, could you and your friends please go looking in the woods?" Warmen and Kalu were the first to go up the ladder and Clarke fought not to roll her eyes. Why was she even a little surprised?

Shala and Velu followed the two hormonal teenage boys. Tomona and Lincoln followed up next.

Clarke knew that Halizee, Kenror and Dleena would return soon. She would need to give them the Jacobi nut covered meat too. She looked down into the bunker and said to her group, "Everyone, please stay here. You'll be safer here. Let the Grounders look around first." Monty and Wells both nodded, Monty looking more curious than Wells. Jasper, Trina, Fox and Harper looked too willing to obey that order.

Pascal looked put out and Finn wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to go up the ladder. Octavia, on the other hand, was livid. She scowled and raced up the ladder after the Grounders. Clarke fought a smirk. Good. Octavia was acting more like she had hoped than originally planned. Such a rash girl.

Octavia jumped out of the bunker next to Lincoln and Tomona. "Oh yeah, you're getting all the action, princess." Octavia sneered.

Clarke shrugged. "I've taken down a bear and got us some maps. Don't see much that you're doing." She nodded to the woods. "Will you look around with Lincoln and his friends? Or will you just sit here and mope about how I'm privileged?" Octavia looked like she would explode. She huffed and stomped off to the forest.

Clarke looked at the Grounders with a fake, guilty look. "Sorry about that. Could you watch her and make sure she doesn't run off? I just want to make sure the area around us isn't being watched by anyone. Don't go far, please. And come back soon. We'll feel safer that way." Warmen and Kalu nodded eagerly. They started walking after Octavia. Lincoln walked after her, looking worried. He was staring at Clarke suspiciously, but made no comment and went after Octavia. Tomona and Shala both nodded and went after them into the forest. Velu was the last. She looked at Clarke and cocked her head.

She smirked, putting on her mask. "What are you planning, Klark?" The woman asked. Clarke fought her muscles becoming tense. She couldn't reveal anything. Not even some tension. Nothing that they were doing could be obvious. Instead of letting her unease show, Clarke shrugged, looking at Velu like she was stupid. "What are you talking about?" Velu chuckled and nodded. She walked off into the forest, not looking back.

Clarke looked at Monroe and Niylah, relieved. Monroe gave Clarke a "that was a close one" look. Clarke walked over to Monroe and Niylah. "Now," Clarke said, "While they're walking around and distracted, give me the meat without any of the sauce on them and I'll give them to the others." Monroe nodded. She kicked over some of the bark with the non-drugged meat and Clarke picked up one. It wasn't as heavy as she thought it would be, so she picked up another and brought them over to the opening of the bunker.

Monroe yelled after her, "Clarke, be careful!" Clarke nodded to her and turned back to the bunker, looking down into it.

"Hey!" She yelled. "Wells, Monty, your food's here! She walked onto the first two steps of the stairs and leaned down. Wells reached out, climbing up the stairs and took one of the pieces of bark. He climbed down. Monty went up the stairs and got the other bark plate of meat. Clarke said to the others, smiling, "You guys will get your meat soon. It's just that Wells and Monty both need to get their strength up so that they can keep working."

The others nodded and Clarke went back up the stairs to the top of the bunker. She got two more bark plate pieces of meat with no sauce and brought them down to the others. Pascal and Trina took these. The next two were for Fox and Harper. The next two were for Finn and Jasper. Then Clarke and Monroe focused on their pieces. There were knives that the Grounders left in the bunker so that the others could cut up the meat if they wanted. If they hurt themselves with it or not, Clarke couldn't care less.

Clarke nodded to the piece of meat without the liquid with grinded up nuts on it next to Monroe. "You should eat too. We're going to be running for it soon." Monroe nodded.

Monroe gestured to the cooking bear meat that was left. "Watch this please. And you eat too, Clarke."

Clarke nodded. "No problem. On both." She watched Monroe sit down next to a bark plate of meat and watched Monroe about to pick at the meat, when Niylah pulled a small knife from her belt, handing it by the handle to Monroe.

Monroe looked at the knife, then at Niylah. "How clean is that thing?" She asked Niylah.

Niylah smirked. "Clean enough. It's cut through only animals. And I've washed it." Monroe looked back at Clarke and Clarke shrugged. Hey, all they went through in the last timeline with how unwashed everything else was, it was a shock that they all hadn't died sooner from tetanus infection on the first week of being down here.

Monroe sighed and took the knife by the handle. Niylah let go and Monroe turned to the meat in front of her, cutting it up. Clarke ignored the suggestion of a knife and just picked up the slab of cooked meat, taking a bite off the edge of it. As soon as she gulped some of it down, she was stunned. This was really, really good. It was tender and moist. She looked at Monroe, who surprised her when she saw that Monroe was looking back at her hopefully.

She smiled, sure that the meat was delicious. She swallowed and told Monroe gently, "It tastes delicious, Monroe, thanks." Monroe's cheeks went red. "Thanks. Great to hear."

Clarke got the feeling that Monroe wanted to say more and wondered why Monroe was so embarrassed by her cooking being good, but didn't bring it up. They had work they needed to do. Being distracted by small talk and food wasn't an option. They needed to pay attention only to getting away from here and getting to the Shallow Valley peoples' territory. And if they could focus less on the minor things, then that would be good.

Clarke, Monroe and Niylah continued to eat. After almost fifteen minutes, Lincoln, Octavia and Lincoln's friends arrived back. They had the other hunters, Halizee, Dleena and Kenror with them. Dleena was carrying a dead rabbit by its ears and Kenror and Halizee were carrying a dead deer between them. Clarke hid her smirk. Good. All of them could be drugged together.

"Good to see you're all back," Clarke said in a friendly tone. "I see that you've brought plenty of food. But we have some all ready and cooked here for you. Please, have some."

The warriors walked over and put down their prey. Many of the group like Shala, Kenror and Tamona looked at them suspiciously. Clarke tried not to frown. She watched them look down at the food covered in sauce. Monroe laughed, startling Clarke. "What's the matter, guys? You think it's poisoned? Some strong, brave warriors you are." She leaned down and grabbed one of the hunks of meat and bit into the sauce-covered piece. Clarke's eyes widened. Monroe had just willingly ate and swallowed some of the sauce that contained the ground up Jacobi nuts.

Monroe smirked, looking at the group with satisfaction. "See, wimps? No poison. Who's brave enough to eat my food? She said to them through chewing, grinning, "You're not warriors. You're just a bunch of cowards."

Kenror growled at Monroe. He lunged over and grabbed the meat from Monroe, biting into it, staring at her with a challenge. Clarke fought a smirk. But again, Clarke was shocked by Monroe. She had just eaten some of the Jacobi nuts. While knowing what would happen. And she did it to get Lincoln and his friends to eat the drugged food. She was willingly drugging herself to get them to do it unknowingly. Clarke was now having doubts about her suspicions about Monroe.

It looked like Monroe was loyal. Or was just very, very good at acting like she was.

Shala followed her father's example. She walked over and grabbed one of the pieces of meat. She picked it up and ripped into it. Halizee, Tamona, Warmen and Kalu did the same. Warmen looked at Clarke while eating. "Klark," He said, "Have you eaten? Want any of mine?" Clarke shook her head. "Thank you, but no. I've had my share already."

Warmen frowned. "That's a pity. My meat's good." Clarke didn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. That had to be one of the lamest attempts at flirting she had ever heard. And she had been privy to Finn's attempts at flirting. And they worked last time, stupid as she was back then.

Lincoln went over to Warmen and snapped at him in Trigedasleng. Clarke recognized his words. "Watch your foul mouth, friend. Klark is a great warrior and friend. Do not speak to her like that."

Clarke noticed then that Monroe and Niylah were both staring murderously at Warmen. Clarke felt like telling them to stop doing that, if they wanted everyone to be fooled that everything was fine. But she was curious why Monroe was looking at Warmen like that as well. Niylah, she understood, if Niylah's feelings were as genuine and as intense as she claimed. But Monroe? What reason did Monroe have to glare daggers at Warmen?

A thought jumped into Clarke's mind and it was a startling one. Monroe had acted funny around Niylah since Niylah had made her feelings for Clarke very apparent. And now Monroe was glaring at Warmen for his words. The thought that Clarke had about Monroe started growing.

But it was a strange thought, not just a startling one. She and Monroe had almost not known each other at all in the other timeline. And what were the chances that not one, but two women were in love with her right now?

But she hadn't known Niylah that well, but still, the older woman wanted to be with her. Clarke didn't know if that was because Niylah only thought she was in love or was pretending, but that was what Niylah claimed. And if Monroe was the same case? Could Clarke judge? Clarke had foolishly fallen in love quickly with all three Finn, Anya and Lexa, so she maybe being too suspicious of the possibility that Niylah and Monroe had quickly fallen in love with her wasn't a good idea. Maybe it was real.

But Clarke knew again that she had to stay focused on only getting the Grounders and Octavia unconscious. She couldn't pay attention to anything else.

Clarke put the thought of Monroe's feelings away for later. She'd think about it later.

The rest of the Grounders were soon eating Monroe's food. The meat was all covered in sauce, so they were all taking in the Jacobi nuts. Lincoln was one of the Grounders who ate. Clarke fought her smirk. Good. If Lincoln remembered, then he would be one of the biggest threats. If he was drugged, that would make him less of a threat. Octavia looked at Monroe. "You made this?" She asked, pointing her thumb at the sauce covered meat hocks. Monroe nodded and Clarke could see in how Monroe's eyes blinked a few times that Monroe was being affected slowly. Crap.

Octavia nodded, walking over and grabbing a slab of sauce-covered meat and glared at Clarke, starting to eat. "Great. There's no way I'd eat this if Princess made it." Octavia sneered the "princess" part out as Clarke expected. Clarke didn't snort, but it took a lot of effort to not do it. Octavia chowed down on the meat and Clarke fought her smirk. All of them were eating the drugged meat. And they were eating way more of it than Monroe ate. Monroe might be affected sooner, but Lincoln, his friends and Octavia would be affected way more severely than Monroe would be.

She couldn't believe how stupid they all were. They really fell for it? She could forget being suspicious about Niylah and Monroe being in love with her at the same time. She had to start wondering how Octavia and these Grounders' could be so dumb.

Clarke wasn't sure how they could be that dumb, but it was all to their advantage.

Clarke looked at Monroe and knew soon, Monroe's intoxication would become obvious. And then the deception would be up. So they couldn't allow the others to figure out that Monroe was slowly being drugged.

Clarke went over to Niylah and leaned down next to her. She whispered to the older blonde woman. "Niylah, please take Monroe down to the bunker. I don't want to risk the others seeing Monroe getting drugged. They'll know what we're doing if they see her. Say that you're going to take Monroe to see how the radios are working."

Niylah nodded against Clarke. "I understand." The older whispered back. Clarke walked back from Niylah and Niylah stood up from where she was eating her uncovered meat. She went to Monroe and said to her calmly, "Monroe, I'd like to go down into the bunker. Klark wants us to see how the radios are working."

Lincoln nodded. Niylah nodded to the bunker, looking at Monroe. Monroe looked surprised but Clarke nodded to the bunker too. "Please, Monroe. Go." Monroe frowned, but cautiously went. She and Niylah got to the edge of the bunker's opening and both of them went down the ladder.

When they both disappeared, Clarke turned to the eating Grounders and Octavia. She knew she needed to get them away from the bunker. If the others walked up to the top of the bunker and saw a bunch of unconscious or high Grounders, plus Octavia, they would start asking a lot of questions. So Clarke had to make sure that they were away from the bunker when the Jacobi nuts really started to kick in.

Clarke checked her watch with subtly. Lincoln and his friends and Octavia were probably experiencing the effects of the nuts now. Clarke started talking, noticing that most of the different pieces of sauce-covered meats were slowly disappearing, "I'd like to walk around the area more. Could all of you come with me? I'd like to see some of the places we could walk to get to where we want to go. How about you all show me?" She walked to the beginning of a path of trees. She could see ahead that there were a few brush-surrounded areas. The Grounders would get lost there, hopefully.

"Could all of you come?" Clarke asked, making her voice sound very soft. She nodded to the brush where the bushes were. She knew these woods better than they thought. She'd lead them around and get them lost while they were intoxicated and leave them stranded, then double back to the bunker.

Warmen and Kalu were the first to nod. Shala walked over and Kenror did next. So did Halizee. Clarke was glad they were doing it, because it encouraged Lincoln to walk over. With Lincoln's willingness, the others decided it was okay to follow. Clarke started walking into the forest, making sure that everyone, including Octavia was following her.

When all nine of the Grounders were in the forest and so was Octavia, Clarke kept walking faster. She went for the more far off brush and the more far out path. She knew those kinds of paths. They were easier to get lost in than any other parts of the woods. She walked to the middle of the path and looked behind her. She kept a straight face instead of smirking when she saw how Lincoln's head shook, his eyes starting to glaze over.

She turned to the path. She knew what to do next. The final bullet that needed to be used to put an end to Lincoln and the others following. She said, "I think I saw something weird here before, I don't know what it is, but I thought I saw a big man with some white covering his face, and he was snarling. I'm telling you I don't know if I saw it or not because I could have sworn I saw him eating an arm." She said exactly what she needed to say when she said she thought she saw a Reaper in the woods. That was no joke to Grounders.

She had said the right thing, because as soon as she was done saying that, Lincoln, Tamona, Velu, Halizee, Dleena, Kenror, Warmen and Kalu charged over and went to the path in front of Clarke. Kenror said, looking at Shala. "Shala, stay here. We're going to hunt the Ripa!" Shala nodded. Shala, who Clarke could tell was being affected quickly by the Jacobi nuts, the way her eyes became unfocused, walked in front of Clarke and Octavia protectively.

Clarke tried not to laugh. With Shala and Octavia as intoxicated as they were, knocking them out with the butt of her rifle would be easy. She watched Lincoln and the other seven run into the woods, pointing to where she claimed she saw the Reaper run off to. "I thought I saw him run off that way before. That was why I wanted you guys to look around." She didn't even need to finish her sentence. Lincoln and the others ran into the forest, their eyes unfocused. Good. They'd be intoxicated and distracted the whole time and not able to find their way back for a while.

When the last people in their group, Halizee and Dleena disappeared into the brush, Clarke turned to Shala and Octavia. "Shala," Clarke said stalling for time, wanting the Jacobi nuts to affect Shala and Octavia more, "Why did they run so fast? What's a 'Ripa?'"

"A Ripa," Shala groaned, eyes blinking, shaking her head and looking more unfocused as the seconds went, "Is a monster. Created by the Mountain Men. You, Klark, will defeat the mountain. Linkin believes this." Clarke tried not to snort. So on one hand, Lincoln DID remember. On the other? Lincoln planned to just use her as a tool to get rid of the Mountain Men. Maybe he meant as a form of honoring her, but he was still a piece of shit for expecting that of her. Killing all of the Mountain Men had been one of the most traumatizing things she had ever done in the other timeline. And Lincoln just expected her to do it again? For once, Clarke actually was angry at Lincoln. Well, they wouldn't have to deal with him for much longer.

Clarke looked at Shala. "Who are the Mountain Men?" She asked. Shala blinked and said, sounding ill, "They're the enemy that has terrorized and preyed on our people for years. They have stolen our people and have made monsters of them in the mountain. Linkin says that they take our blood."

Clarke saw her chance. Octavia was looking horrified and unfocused and Shala was grabbing at her head, out of it. Shala was the bigger threat. Clarke grabbed her rifle and turned it, slamming the butt of the rifle painfully into Shala's face, twice. Blood came out of Shala's face. She groaned. Clarke saw her down and as soon as Shala was on her back, Clarke slammed the butt of her gun down against Shala's head again. She did it a few times, and when Octavia cried out, about to scream, Clarke turned the butt of the gun on Octavia, slamming it into her face too. She grinned, loving how Octavia bled. Such a self-centered, self-righteous little shit. The crunching sound Octavia's nose made just made it that much better for Clarke.

Clarke bashed the butt of the gun into both Octavia's head, then Shala's, then she stopped, watching them both cautiously. Neither of them moved. Unfortunately, Octavia was still breathing, like Shala was. But it didn't matter. They were unconscious and Clarke could run back to the bunker. Clarke grinned. She walked to a brush next to them and wiped the blood off of the butt of the gun on one of the big, flat plant leaves. She swung the gun back around so that it lay against her back, barrel at the ground. She leaned down and grabbed Octavia's wrists, pulling them. She dragged Octavia behind three large bushes, where no one could see her. When Clarke was done hiding the bleeding, unconscious Octavia, Clarke went to Shala and started dragging.

Clarke knew that she would have an enraged Kenror after her. But she didn't care. She planned to shoot him as soon as she saw him next time. The Grounders were cowardly and attacked first, asked questions later. There was no point in taking the kinder and more honorable road with them. If she wanted to survive the Grounders, she would strike first and make sure that they couldn't strike back. Even if she had to kill them in their sleep to do it.

Clarke got up and went down the path, walking from the forest fast and started walking back to where the patch of grass was where the bunker was. It took a few minutes, but she got there. Against windy paths and batches of trees, she got to the bunker and the put out fire. She got to the edge of the bunker's entrance and called down to the others. "Guys! We need to go! Lincoln and his friends are in the woods, tracking a something they call a "Ripa," or something. They told us to run for it and that Niylah would know where to go."

She saw the confusion on all of their faces. Wells was confused too, but picked up the radio as Clarke ordered. The radio was screwed onto a metal board of some kind like Wells said he and Monty could do and Wells ran with the radio to the ladder. Clarke called down, ignoring Monroe and Niylah's frightened looks, "Grab all the weapons you can find! Grab any guns or grenades or knives. Anything. Niylah, Lincoln said that you'd lead us to safety. So please come up fast."

On Clarke's order, Pascal, Jasper, Monty, Wells, Harper, Finn and Monroe grabbed what they could and stuffed their pockets with them. Trina and Fox were the only two watching with fear. The others stuffed their pockets with guns, bullets and grenades. "Careful with the pins in the grenades and the guns." Clarke ordered. "Always keep the safety on the guns. Don't want to accidentally shoot yourselves or someone else."

When Niylah climbed out of the bunker, she looked at Clarke. "Klark," She whispered to the younger, "Is there really a Ripa in the forest?" Clarke shook her head, stepping back from the bunker so that no one would see her shake her head. "No. I said that so I could get people moving. And we don't want them wondering where the others are. The story about the Reaper was just to make them get away from here so that Lincoln and his group won't find us."

Niylah nodded after a second, understanding. She walked past Clarke and she and Clarke waited till everyone else was out of the bunker. Wells and Monroe were out. Clarke wasn't surprised when Jasper, Monty and Fox were the next to basically leap out of the bunker, looking afraid. Trina and Harper followed. Finn and Pascal went out next. When everyone was out, Clarke nodded to the opposite end of the beginning of the forest from where Clarke had led Lincoln and his group.

"Lincoln told me to go that way. He said that Niylah would show us the way." Clarke said, looking at Niylah. Niylah nodded. She began to walk. She looked at the other Sky People in the group. "Follow me." Niylah instructed. She walked to the forest. Clarke nodded at Niylah's back, looking at Wells and the others and started walking. She heard the others behind her. She looked back at Wells. He was watching her, smiling.

Clarke smiled back. "Wells, do we have all the radio we need?" Wells nodded. "Alright," Clarke said, grinning. She yelled to the others, "Everyone keep moving."

Clarke, Wells and the others followed Niylah into the forest. Clarke knew that Lincoln and his group were probably half an hour away by now. If they kept moving, they'd gain more time on them. Besides, they still would be intoxicated on Jacobi nuts. So they would be given more and more time.

When they went down the path, Clarke made sure to walk fast, watching Niylah's back. Clarke would check behind her a few times, making sure that all eight Wells, Monroe, Jasper, Monty, Finn, Harper, Fox, Pascal and Trina were behind her. When she was sure that all eight of them were there, Clarke kept moving, turning back to Niylah. Clarke stared ahead at the path that Niylah was walking. This was where Clarke was going to say goodbye to Octavia. Permanently. She was going to say goodbye to Octavia and Lincoln and everyone else she had met here in the Trikru land. She, Wells, Niylah, Monroe and the others were going to start a new life in a new land. They were going to take a boat from the Luwoda tribe and go to South America.

It would be a new life and a new country. Technically, South America was a continent, not a country. But it was the same idea. Clarke didn't know how much there was in South America after the bombs. But anything was better than what was here in Trikru land. Anything was better than living with the Grounders and with Bellamy's thugs.

Clarke fought her smirk, smiling at Wells, nodded to her. They were armed. And they were going to be free soon. In another land, but they would be free.

Clarke kept feeding the lie while she walked, "Lincoln says that he and the others will catch up with us. And don't worry about Octavia. She's with Lincoln and the others. She'll be safe." She got a few nods at her words and she smiled. The kindness in her smile hid the sadistic happiness that was behind it. They believed her. They actually believed her. And now she was free of Octavia. She would be soon free of Octavia's judgments, her vulgar, crude comments, her anger, her resentment. Octavia sometimes felt like a giant pest that just needed to be disposed of.

Clarke had just disposed of the pest. If Clarke had to, she'd dispose of Jasper, Monty, and the others too, save for Niylah, Monroe and Wells. The Ark knew that they were alive and with the radios they had, Clarke, Wells, Niylah and Monroe could help the rest of the Ark come down to South America too.

Clarke watched Niylah's back, feeling Monroe's eyes on her. She could hardly guess what would happen next with either Monroe or with Niylah. But she would enjoy it as much as she could. Because if this whole world wanted to use her then spit her out like she meant nothing, then she'd take some happiness and pleasure of her own before she died again, dammit.


	10. Fleeing to the boats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A spoiler warning here, not for this TV show, but for the book, "Watership Down" by Richard Adams. And Watership Down is extremely important in this story. And anyone who hasn't read the book or seen the movie, or hasn't heard of the plot, don't read, because there will be spoilers for the book. Remember, symbolism in Watership Down is very important in this fic.

Walking had increased since they left where the bunker was, taking the portable radio and the weapons with them. Then eventually walking had turned to running. The running picked up speed. Soon, they were almost three hours from the bunker and Clarke was sure, with Niylah's help now that there was no way Lincoln and his friends would catch them. Besides, it would take a few more hours till they got down from where they were flying through the air thanks to the Jacobi nuts.

Through dense forest the eleven of them reached many rivers where they got water. They looked out for any animals that might attack them or that they could use as food.

The journey through the thick forest was unnerving. Clarke tried to keep a brave and uncaring face while she moved, showing that she was confident about where they were going, but the surrounding, large forest that looked like it could eat them at any moment made it somewhat difficult. Clarke was using her ears, but not being able to see if there was a Grounder or a group of Grounders hiding behind the trees or bushes or rocks with their weapons. It made Clarke's anger start up again. The Grounders, save for Lincoln and Niylah expected everything of her. From her people. From her. It was like they could never give enough. Like she could never give enough.

They would always demand more. And the moment they didn't get their way? They started throwing around words like "weak" or "soft." Even though they had run away like cowards from the mountain as soon as an attack was ordered.

The Grounders were the most worthless people in the world besides her own. Clarke knew that now. It was why she had to give her people a real second chance in South America by taking the boats from Luwoda. The Floukru were too high profile for them to take boats from the Floukru without the Commander's people immediately finding them. The Luwoda were of less concern to the Commander than the Floukru were. So Clarke and the others could access those boats better.

The small talk that Jasper, Finn, Harper, Pascal and Monty tried to toss around to be funny and to talk about things were distracting enough and Clarke was grateful for once for them coming along. Clarke felt safer having Niylah, Wells and Monroe nearby, but she found that she was grateful for the others too. Just as long as they didn't figure out what her plans were or that she had beaten the crap out of Octavia before, then things would go smoothly.

It occurred to Clarke while the eleven of them were going over the next couple of hills and Clarke only saw the line of a bright blue ocean up ahead in the distance, that she had no idea where Niylah was taking them. "Uh, Niylah?" Clarke said, Wells to he right and Monroe to her left, Monty, Jasper, Finn, Fox and Harper between her, Wells and Monroe and Niylah who was at the head of the group, and Pascal and Trina wondering around them to the left. "Where are we going?"

Niylah looked over her right shoulder at the group. "You wanted to go to the tribe that had the boats so that we could go to a safe place? A place where the rest of your people could go to be safe? I know how to get there. But we'll need boats. These boats won't be that durable. So they will be temporary. But they'll get us to the tribe that you want us to go to."

Clarke nodded, hoping that Niylah was to be trusted on this front. They were heading to the edge of North America. Where the ocean was. If Niylah was true to her word, then there were boats they could take down to what used to be called Florida. Where the Luwoda lived. Clarke didn't want to, but so help her, if Niylah was lying about this…

Clarke contemplated the possibility of shooting Niylah. Could she do it? The one person that made an effort besides Anya, Finn, Wells, Raven and Monroe to make her feel like she wasn't a monster? The one person besides Anya, Finn, Wells, Raven and Monroe to make her feel like she was doing more than enough? That she was enough?

Clarke's body tensed. Her heart hurt thinking about killing Niylah. She didn't think she could say that she loved anyone yet, or would even try to put her heart out there yet and risk someone hurt her heart again, but if she hurt Niylah, she knew it would hurt her too.

Clarke thought about it and was sure she wouldn't be able to do it. She didn't know if Niylah really loved her. But she knew that if it was only an illusion that Niylah had cooked up to deceive her, then she wanted nothing to do with the older woman. What was the point of being with someone who didn't love you back or love you as much as you loved them? That was the lesson Clarke had learned over time. Never stay with people that didn't love you back or didn't love you as much as you loved them.

Clarke wasn't sure she could kill Niylah. But she knew she'd be able to get away from the older woman. But that was only if Niylah's words were lies. They kept walking through the woods and when they walked to the edge of the forest, Clarke saw where the line of woods ended and the mounds of sand begun in a long plethora.

"Oh, wow," Jasper said in awe. "The beach. An actual beach! And an ocean! It's beautiful." The boy's eyes were wide with amazement. He inhaled, grinning. Clarke smirked. She'd admit that she missed the ocean. After the mountain, and Clarke had left her people, she had sometimes traveled to the ocean. She had gone to the ocean to blow off steam. If she felt like she was trapped somewhere while in the places like caves that she had hidden out in her self-imposed exile in the last timeline, she would go out and travel to the oceans to take in the air and travel around the beach. She would also give herself swimming lessons in the safer part of the ocean. She would stay in the rivers, to be sure that she was doing it in safe waters. And when she got better at swimming, she would try the ocean every now and then.

The waters of the ocean, as Clarke remembered, were refreshing and at time, overwhelming. The overwhelming part came from how fresh and how powerful the water was. It felt like being directly under a waterfall sometimes. And the sea breeze was wonderful. Walking through the sand alongside the ocean and letting the breeze blow past her had always made her feel safe. Clarke was almost able to forget some of the things that happened when she was near the ocean. She never escaped the nightmares or the memories staining her soul. But, if only for a few hours, while at the beach, Clarke had been able to forget some of her troubles for a time.

And Lexa had taken that away from her when she sent Roan to take her to Polis. To make Wanheda bow because Lexa feared her power.

Clarke restrained the pain and resentment she could feel getting stronger. Lexa cared about no one but herself. Any peace that Clarke might have found, any salvation, that meant nothing to her. She just wanted to be respected and feared, and if she had to do that by taking Clarke from the only refuge she had found, then Lexa would do it, all to secure her position in life.

Clarke tried not to laugh in front of everyone because she didn't want any questions. Lexa really hadn't cared about anyone but herself. Clarke couldn't believe that there was a time when she had trusted that woman. Lexa was the most selfish person in the world besides Bellamy, the one hundred and Jaha. Lexa's selfishness was actually embarrassing.

It was kind of embarrassing when Clarke thought about it. How did someone so selfish as Bellamy and Lexa live? It was obvious that such people needed to be killed off, bled to death, decapitated. She had to wonder how other Grounders hadn't turned on Lexa the first chance they got. She knew that there were suspicions of Lexa after the mountain and people called her weak. Bellamy not dying was an obvious one, because her people were idiots and didn't care about anyone but themselves. So that explained why he hadn't been killed.

But none of them had ever had the courage to actually try anything. It made her suspect that cowardice was a common trait in Grounders, not just in the Commander.

Clarke's smile was sad and pained. She really had meant nothing to everyone, including Lexa, hadn't she?

It was so painful to think about. She knew she had to focus on getting herself and her people safe and she had to focus on the important thing. But that was why she had always made herself busy. If she didn't, then she would have time to think about how much everyone hated her and how much she was only a tool to them.

She gave up everything and after she gave up everything they still demanded more. And when she didn't, they got angry. If she still did and things didn't go their way they blamed her for it and said it was her fault even though she always made it obvious that she'd do anything for her people. No more. She had to live for herself or she would die again. Her giving up everything had already killed her one time. She couldn't allow it again. It might be permanent this time.

Clarke's expression must have stayed somber, since she felt a gentle hand on her left arm. Clarke turned her head and saw Monroe looking at her, worried. "Clarke?" Monroe asked softly. "Are you alright in there?" Clarke studied Monroe and saw how worried the other blonde was. She nodded eventually. Monroe knew half of the story. She knew a little bit of the story. Not the emotional part of why Clarke was in so much pain, but she knew some of it. So it was fine. Clarke glanced at the others and saw that they were far enough away that they wouldn't hear her words.

"I'm okay," She said, not sure how honest that statement was. "I just can't really deal with knowing how much I know right now. I know that a lot of people don't care about what happens to me. I know that."

Clarke knew maybe she had revealed too much of her feelings. But she supposed that that wasn't enough for Monroe to use against her. She only knew that much and the other timeline. Nothing else.

Monroe squeezed her hand around Clarke's arm. "It's alright, Clarke." The braided girl said, her gaze becoming hard. "I don't care what the others say. I already made the decision. I'm on your side, Clarke. So is Wells." Monroe nodded to Wells. Clarke turned to her childhood friend. Wells smiled at her and nodded. Clarke smiled. For now, it looked like she had some support. She didn't know about Niylah or Monroe for sure. But she knew that they for now had her back. And Wells always would. Sure, she knew by now that she should know better than to trust anyone but herself. But right now, even though she was going to use bullets as a form of backup in case anyone turned on her, like they always did, she knew she had to trust someone if she wanted to be successful in getting the rest of the Ark people down.

Clarke nodded to Wells. She turned to Monroe and smiled. "Thanks, Monroe." She told the other girl. "That really means a lot."

Monroe nodded, grinning. "Sure. Just promise me you won't give up. You have every right to. But promise me you won't. There's still hope." Clarke sighed, smiling. She'd love to believe that there was still hope. But she could feel the spark of hope she had die with each second. Every betrayal was a new reason for that hope to die.

But if Monroe and Wells were hopeful for now and Niylah was still willing to offer her love, then maybe Clarke could hold onto something. For now.

"Alright," She said, "I promise." Monroe gave a gentle smile in return.

Their attention was pulled to the others when they heard Trina's laughter. "Pascal, stop it!" The girl laughed at the boy, Pascal who was splashing saltwater up at her face, grinning. His brown hair was wet and plastered against his forehead. Jasper and Monty soon joined in, jumping into the beginning of the water, staying on shore for safety and started splashing each other with water, laughing.

Finn started going to the water, looking back at Clarke, smiling mischievously. He nodded to the water and yelled to Clarke, "Hey, princess! Want to jump in?"

Clarke snorted at him, walking closer to the water, "Not with you. But sure. I'll get in. Try to splash at me and you'll lose an arm." Clarke raised her gun in emphasis. Finn lost his smirk and looked quickly like he might piss himself. Clarke tried not to smirk. That was a satisfying thing to see. A quieted Finn Collins. Clarke never liked to think of herself as being sadistic. And she was sure that she hadn't been until recently. But Bellamy, Lexa, her own mother, Octavia and Thelonius Jaha had seen to it that she would end up like that. And she had ended up the way they wanted her to end up.

So she wasn't just fine with Finn looking like this or being scared. She enjoyed knowing that she put some fear into him. It would have been even better if it had been one of the people responsible for her being the way she had become, but she couldn't have everything she wanted. In fact it was strange that things were going as well as they were for her right now. So she wouldn't push her demands.

Clarke got to the water and kicked her right leg out, shooting a thin gout of water up and watching it splash into the ocean. She smiled at the water, the warm sun hitting her skin. This all felt very familiar. It was a welcomed familiarity. Her days at the sea, near the water, on the few days when she wasn't a recluse, those dark days after the mountain were something. They were safety. They were warmth. She had never been able to chase away the pain or the loneliness or the sadness or the agony of what she had done in the mountain. But just those few days to feel a little content had been worth coming out of her caves and shelters where she isolated herself from others.

Not to mention, there were the jewels she would find around the beach or deeper in the ocean. The food she could get from the ocean when she wasn't risking getting her back slashed up by panthers or her legs almost ripped open by wild boars.

Clams, oysters, fish, mussels, scallops. Even the occasional crab or lobster that she could hunt down. Lobsters usually didn't come ashore. But on the off chance they did, she'd snatch them up. And when they didn't, she would steal the lobsters from the cages that fishermen would leave out and steal those catches in the night.

She had known that if she were to be caught, the best-case scenario would be that she might lose a few fingers. But at the time, she hardly had cared. She welcomed any pain or even death back then.

Clarke's first impulse was to go looking around the rockier seashore to look for clams, oysters, mussels and her personal favorite, scallops. But if she did, people would ask how she knew to look in those places. And she couldn't allow those questions to be raised, could she?

Harper and Fox came over to Clarke, both of them smiling. Harper splashed at Fox and Fox giggled, moving back. Clarke smirked. It was nice to see them like this. Not just alive (where Fox was concerned), but happy, laughing. Healthy and carefree. It was as if they hadn't just heard that there were a bunch of Grounders in the world and that many of them had taken the rest of the one hundred captive and thrown them into the dungeons. Trauma hadn't yet affected these girls. Clarke hoped it remained that way. But in this world, because of people like her mother, people like Octavia, people like Dante and Cage Wallace, people like Anya, people like Thelonius Jaha and people like Bellamy and Lexa...and yes, people like Clarke too, it was unlikely trauma wouldn't come up at some point.

But for now, Harper and Fox, they all could have this. This peace and happiness. It was unlikely it would stay that way, but for now, Harper and Fox could be left alone. They could all be left alone in this happiness. For now, Clarke could leave them to it.

Clarke actually still wanted her people to be happy. Some of them, she wanted to be happy. Fox, Harper, Monty, Wells and Monroe were amongst them. Jasper and Finn? She didn't care. Octavia was a joke. Bellamy and Murphy were awful and didn't deserve any happiness. Pascal and Trina she didn't know well enough to judge. She hoped for Raven's happiness as well. Foolish as the mechanic might be, she still wished for Raven's happiness.

Now there was jus the matter of getting a boat to Luwoda, getting the boats from the Luwoda people and taking them to South America and making sure that everyone else came down.

Those were three very big steps that would take a lot. Clarke turned to look at Niylah who was watching her with warm, soft and fascinated eyes.

Clarke sighed, wondering when this whole "I love you to the ends of the Earth thing" was going to stop. Clarke wanted to believe it. But as she knew from personal experience, when she had only a glimpse of hope and happiness, that hope and that happiness were usually taken away in seconds flat.

She had no reason to believe that Niylah's love would stay the way it was or that she would remain as loyal as she said she was. Clarke wanted to believe it and would take advantage and have as much fun as she could. But she knew better than to believe in it for long.

"So, Niylah," Clarke said, nodding to the older. "Where are these boats that you mentioned?"

Niylah nodded, still smiling. She turned around and pointed a long, graceful hand to the other side of where they stood. At the edge of the beach, was a wooden dock where three different wooden, fairly big rowboats were tied. All of the rowboats had oars locked onto the sides. Clarke was startled by this. Rowboats? They were taking rowboats down the ocean to Florida? How? She stared at Niylah hard. "Niylah, tell me you have a better plan than this. The ocean is rough and there could be storms."

Niylah nodded, not looking offended by Clarke's dry statement. She walked through the water to Clarke and said to Clarke gently, "Do you remember there being a storm during your first weeks here?" Clarke frowned. She thought about it. There had been that one night while she, Finn, Octavia, Jasper and Monty had been hunting for food the very first day they were down. But they had been asleep this time around and they weren't touched by the rain like they had been last time.

And had there been any storm after that one at the beginning? No, there hadn't been. Sure, there had been the one at the beginning and that had been last night. But after that, almost nothing. Not till really later on in the weeks and that was about three weeks after Charlotte and Wells had died the first time around.

She frowned and shook her head. "Well, no. But I don't feel comfortable using boats on the water. Not in something like rowboats. None of us, except you are that experienced in boating."

Niylah nodded. She still didn't look put off. "Very well." She said. "Then we'll have to use a different means of travel. You already know my father, Klark. But you haven't met my uncle, Ardlin. There are many people in my tribe who are suspicious of tek, but not my uncle. He loves tek. So he has put together much of the tek that he's found in other boats and has even made a few boats for himself. These boats are used with the tek attached to the back of the boat, I believe?"

Clarke almost laughed. Motorboats. That was a shock. They were going to have motorboats. If Niylah could get the motorboats from her uncle, then they would. Clarke nodded. "Yes, please." She said. "I'd like it if we could go to your uncle and get the boats."

Niylah nodded, smiling. "Very good. For now, I think maybe your friends are trying to not feel so afraid." She nodded to the other kids splashing around in the saltwater. "Maybe it would be wise to let them have their fun to distract them until you decide it's time to go."

Clarke looked at Pascal, Trina, Harper, Fox, Monty, Jasper, and Finn. Her frustration started to melt. Maybe Niylah was right. As angry as Clarke was at them, if they were distracted and had something to look forward to between the actions of stress, then maybe they'd be less stubborn.

But Clarke had been down that route before. She had thought that breaks and letting people have fun might help them later. It hadn't. Had it motivated Miller, Jasper, Monty, Harper, Fox and the others in the mountain to listen to her? No. Had it stopped Bellamy from throwing a radio that could have saved 300 people into a river? No.

Clarke didn't trust in the idea of "letting people have fun so they'll listen to you" idea anymore. But since Niylah was helping them, she wasn't sure she should say anything. Since Niylah had gotten them away from the bunker and led them from the other Grounders and Octavia, then Clarke suspected that taking Niylah's advice might be a good idea. She didn't trust any of the people here, save for Wells and giving a little trust to Niylah and Monroe. But being smart didn't really mean that you couldn't play it someone else's way for a while.

She would see how Niylah's means of doing things turned out before deciding anything else. Since Niylah had gotten them away from where Lexa's army had moved in and grabbed everyone else, Clarke was going to assume that for now, they could trust her.

Clarke felt eyes burn into her and she turned to Monroe and Wells. Wells had walked around her to get out of Niylah's way and was now standing next to Monroe. She looked back at them. "What are you two thinking?" She asked them, wishing she didn't have to be so cold to everyone. The few people that she could trust didn't deserve this.

Monroe sighed, shrugging. "It's just, I'm thinking about the difference between you now and the you that you were last time. You've become so angry." Clarke tried not to wince. Monroe was right. Clarke wished she wasn't so tight and angry about everything. But she had learned that being nice and forgiving all the time just wouldn't cut it.

Monroe added, "I'm not saying this to make you feel bad. It's just that I wish there was something we could do to make you happy. I'm not asking you to be happy all the time. Just that you felt a little happier." Monroe looked at her hopefully, sadness in her eyes. "Is there anything that could take the stress off of you for a while?" Clarke was startled by the question. This was getting kind of weird. It was hard to imagine anyone at all besides Wells being worried about Clarke's stress or happiness.

Clarke had told herself that her friends, when they told her to just go with everything, that they wanted her to have fun too. But she knew better now. They had wanted her to go with everything because they didn't want her to RUIN THEIR fun. It wasn't about her. It was about them. Like it always was. She was supposed to give and give and give. And one of the things she had to give? Was an appearance of happiness, even if she didn't actually feel that happiness. She was supposed to be a smiling doll for them.

So for someone to say that they cared about her happiness? That felt like something Clarke's brain wasn't really absorbing. Was it possible someone, that these people, cared about her happiness? She looked at Monroe and Wells, then looked behind her at Niylah. Did they really care about her? It was so hard for her to believe it, but it actually looked real. She hoped it was. But how could she be sure?

She just shrugged, trying to hide her shock. "Just help me with these people." She nodded to the kids in the water. "I don't trust them. I've learned that I can't. Harper, Fox, Jasper and Monty were with me in the mountain when they captured us. And they instantly listened to everything the Mountain Men said. Pascal and Trina both died before I got to know them. But I wouldn't be too trusting of them. And Finn? Well, Monroe, I think you know all about him, don't you?"

Monroe nodded, her eyes glancing at Finn, who was splashing waves of water at Fox and Harper. She knew what happened before with Finn. She wished she could say that she wasn't jealous. She was. She knew that Finn had slept with Clarke, but it wasn't just that. Finn had known Clarke before all the craziness, save for Wells and Charlotte's deaths and Murphy's exile happened. He didn't just know her personally. He knew her in an intimate way that didn't even involve sex. She knew her when she was vulnerable and sad and open to letting someone else in. He knew a version of Clarke in a way that Monroe knew she would never know the other girl.

Even if Clarke eventually opened up to her, and decided to be her girlfriend by some miraculous decision that Monroe would be a good partner, Monroe would never know the version of Clarke that had been in the first timeline when they had first come down to Earth. That version of Clarke was gone. People like Bellamy, Lexa, Finn, Abby, Thelonius and the Mountain Men made sure of that.

Monroe wished she had known that version of Clarke better. But she hadn't. But Monroe wanted to be with Clarke. No matter what. Even if Clarke never accepted her as a lover, she wanted to be in Clarke's life in some way. She wanted to help, support, protect and love this version of Clarke too. To keep her safe from the people that made her cut off parts of herself to stay safe in the first place. If Monroe had to become a monster to do that, then she'd do it.

Monroe nodded. "We can do that. You want these fuckers controlled? They'll be controlled." Clarke chuckled at the brutal language. She felt grateful for it. She wasn't sure she should feel grateful, but she was. She noticed out of the corner of her eye, that Niylah was cocking her head at Monroe for Monroe's words. Clarke's chuckling increased. She imagined that Niylah wasn't familiar with the phrase that Monroe just said. Wells was smirking too. "Don't worry about it, Clarke. We'll help. After we're done here," He nodded to the others playing in the ocean, "We'll help you herd some cats."

Clarke smiled. She couldn't have said it better herself. Trying to get the one hundred to cooperate was exactly like herding cats. She noticed Niylah's puzzled face and smirked. Niylah, as to be expected, didn't know what "herding cats" meant. She decided to help Niylah understand.

She whispered to Niylah, "Herding cats is a comparison. Since cats are hard to control, herding a bunch of them would be impossible. That's why we're comparing trying to get the others to cooperate to herding cats."

Niylah nodded, now comprehending. "I see." She said. She looked over at the teenagers splashing around in the water. "I suppose it works. What would you have me do if they do not obey?" She looked at Clarke with expectation. Clarke felt her mouth drop. She wondered if Niylah was really offering to kill one of the others if they didn't obey. Again, the loyalty she was being given really felt unbelievable. Just because Clarke had never been given it before.

Clarke breathed in deeply. Niylah had asked a good question. What would she do if any of the others disobeyed? "We can't just kill them in front of the others. They'll try to rebel because they can't deal with order. If they go against us, we do the same thing that we did with the other Grounders and Octavia. We leave them. We take them into the woods and we leave the person who went against us there. It doesn't matter who it is. Finn, Jasper, Monty, any of them. If they disobey, we leave them."

Clarke knew her words should have horrified her. They didn't. She knew that there a lot of things she never would have done before that she would do now. Bellamy? Murphy? Charlotte? She would have killed them by now if she were still at camp.

And she'd kill Octavia too to make sure she wouldn't retaliate for her brother's death. She knew now that she would be able to leave these people to die in the woods if they went against her. It was one life versus the lives of millions. And if she was held to that, then she knew what choice she had to make. She had to leave these people to die if they went against the plans to go to South America. Because the millions of lives on the Ark came before any of these people in the water. It was just that these people were too stubborn to understand that their lives were meaningless compared to the millions of lives up on the Ark.

So if they became a problem, they would have to be disposed of too.

"If they disobey, we leave them." Clarke repeated. She looked around at the other three. "Is everyone okay with this?" She saw all three of the others nod eventually. She checked their faces for any moral interference. Niylah showed nothing but devotion. Monroe looked determined and despite Clarke talking about leaving the people she knew to be her friends to die, Monroe's green eyes shined with promise to do as Clarke told her.

Wells's face was the most startling, given he was the most gentle of the three, since he had died really early in the other timeline. He looked fierce and willing to do anything that she said. She remembered what he had been saying in the past few hours. He would make sure everyone else on the Ark survived. And he would be there for her. She knew she could trust him. And it was time to see how much she could trust him.

She nodded. "You guys can play in the water if you want." She said. "But in ten minutes we need to get going. Before the Commander's warriors find us. So after ten minutes, we'll need to round everyone up and head for Niylah's uncle's place." She nodded to Niylah. Monroe and Wells looked at Niylah curiously.

Niylah nodded. "My uncle made some boats that have tek. They will take us to where we wish to go."

Monroe nodded. "Will they get us all the way to South America? Or will we have to stop by Florida still?"

Clarke looked at Niylah. "Your uncle's boats aren't sturdy enough for the whole trip?"

Niylah shook her head. "They'll be fast enough to get us through the rough ocean faster. But when it comes to being strong enough to be safe enough for the full journey from here to another country, I don't believe that they would hold up. The Luwoda's boats would be stronger."

Clarke wasn't going to correct Niylah about South America being a continent, not a country. She knew what Niylah meant. And was grateful to the older for her honesty. So they couldn't rely only on the motorboats and would have to with the sturdier, bigger war boats? Fine. That was good. The bigger they were the more intimidating they were. Besides, the other boats would be much more quiet than the motorboats. So people wouldn't hear them leaving. Motorboats were famously loud. Even if one wasn't near the same landmass, they'd be able to hear the sound of the engine. So the bigger boats that the Luwoda had were more convenient for that very reason.

"Alright, then," Clarke nodded. "We'll get your uncle's boats." She looked at Niylah. "Then we'll get the bigger boats from the Luwoda. Niylah, what can you tell me about the Luwoda? About getting them to give us the boats so we won't have to shoot them for the boats instead."

Niylah nodded, again, not looking disturbed that Clarke had outright threatened her people with violence. "The Shallow Valley People are a fairly peaceful people. They are not as destructive as the Azgeda, the Boudalan, the Ingranron or the Trikru."

Clarke snickered. She looked at Monroe, smirking. "That wouldn't be hard."

Monroe grinned back. Wells smirked. Niylah nodded, looking also amused. She kept speaking, "They live in the warmer parts of our land. Where there are hard skinned beasts with long snouts and fangs that swim deep in the warm waters. And they live with the slithering creatures of the woods." Clarke nodded. This probably sounded like gibberish to Wells, but since the Luwoda lived in the part of North America the started from Florida and onwards through the rest of the lower south, they lived near the swamps. And because of that? There were "hard skinned beasts with long snouts and fangs." Alligators. Crocodiles even in some parts. And the slithering creatures? Snakes. Lots of snakes.

Clarke nodded. "That part I know. But what else? What can you tell me about their culture? Their habits, their strategies? How would they react to us asking for boats?"

Niylah answered calmly, "Their culture revolves mostly around fishing, hunting, and making boats and nets for other tribes. They would not be unkind to us if we said that we needed help in going somewhere else and needed their ships. But they would need a good reason first."

Clarke nodded. "I'd imagine. Well, it IS a good reason. There are millions of lives at stake."

Niylah smiled. "And if we explain that, they'll understand. But we need to make it evident to them that we are not lying. You have objects. These…I believe you call them "radios," that can contact your Ark?"

Clarke nodded. "Yeah. So you think we should get into contact with the Ark on the radios in front of them to get them to believe us?"

Niylah's smile stretched. "That is what I think, yes. If we show them the radios and they hear a voice on it, they might be quicker to believe us than if we did not have the radios with us." Clarke smiled. Niylah had a point. While she could argue that the Luwoda might think that the people they were talking to were somewhere on the ground, not the sky, it was a good point. It made her worry about what the Luwoda thought of the Mountain Men.

"Niylah," Clarke said, "Is there any chance that the Shallow Valley People will think that we're with the Mountain Men. Because of the technology we have?"

Niylah shook her head. "I don't believe so. Not if I speak for you. And it's known throughout all tribes that the Mountain Men can't live outside of their suits. If you WERE with the Mountain Men, you would have to wear those white suits too, to survive." Clarke nodded. That was a good point. All the Grounders knew about the white suits of the Mountain Men. So them not having those white suits was probably a very good thing.

She nodded. "Alright." She said. "We'll get ready soon. You guys go ahead." She nodded to the water. "Play if you want."

Niylah smirked. "We're going to be going to the water soon enough. There's no need."

Monroe nodded. "I'm good."

"Same." Wells answered.

Wells added, before Clarke could say more, "Clarke, can I ask you a question?" Clarke looked at Wells, surprised. "Wells," She chuckled, "Of course you can ask a question. Just because I'm not putting up with anyone's bullshit anymore, doesn't mean that I won't answer questions."

Wells nodded. "I know that the Commander has control of all the tribes. But if we flee to one tribe, won't we technically have that tribe's protection? Shouldn't we just join the tribe?" Clarke shook her head. She had thought about that before. But all tribes were still under the Commander's rule.

"We can't risk that." Clarke said sadly, thinking about Lexa's reach of power. "The Commander controls all tribes. All twelve of them. Even if we hide in any of those tribes, word will reach her that we're there. To her, we are invaders. Her throwing all of our people into prisons are proof of that. It also makes me worry that maybe she remembers too." Niylah, Monroe and Wells all stiffened. They didn't like the thought of the Commander remembering anymore than she did. Clarke added, "So if word gets back to her that we're in another tribe, it's only going to be a period of time till she comes looking for us. This way? On another continent? The Commander won't have any authority there. South America is not her land. There are no tribes of hers there. Besides, Wells."

She looked at her best friend gravely. "As long as we answer to someone else, we'll never be free. Not really."

Wells nodded. "I see what you're saying. Does this mean that when the rest of the Ark comes down, we will NOT be giving up authority to the adults?"

Clarke snorted, smirking. "No fucking way. If we have to, we should leave them too. We're only trying to get to South America for their sake. If they're ungrateful, well, I guess we'll just shoot them." She waited for the outrage. She expected disgust and refusals. She didn't get them.

Wells looked worried for a second, but nodded. "Okay." He said.

Seeing Clarke's startled look, Wells shrugged. "Hey, I know what my dad would do the first chance he gets. He's better off not being in power. And it sounds like your mom isn't so good when she doesn't get her way."

Clarke snorted. "That's really glossing it over. But yeah, you're right, she's not. I don't trust Kane either. And there's still Pike to worry about if he runs for Chancellor."

"Shit." Monroe snorted. "It sounds like when the Ark comes down we might actually have to start murdering people to keep the rest of the Ark people safe."

Clarke grimly looked at Monroe. "I hate saying it, Monroe, but you're closer to being right about that than I think you want to be."

Monroe chuckled, nodding. "I'm not surprised. Yeah, if Pike gains any control, he'll be dangerous. Kane didn't get his head out of his ass until he realized that we knew Earth better than he did. He'll be trouble. So will your mom." She sighed, looking at Clarke with promise. "Clarke, if you tell me to, I could sneak into their bunks and slit their throats. I just need a nod from you to do it."

Clarke was startled by Monroe's quickness to agree to be an assassin. She wondered if something had happened the last time to get Monroe to this ruthless version of herself that she was. But Clarke was sure she knew everything that had happened last time to Monroe.

From being used like a pawn by Bellamy, a man who claimed to care about them but only cared about himself, to almost being killed again and again by savage Grounders, to having her bone marrow almost drilled out by Mountain Men who cared nothing of whether they lived or died. Monroe had been through enough. She had seen enough. She knew enough to know that there were few people in this world that could be trusted.

And the many that weren't? Were a threat that needed to be wiped out. Monroe knew the same thing that Clarke knew. Monroe had decided to do something about it and put her soldier skills to use. She was willing to become an assassin for their survival.

Clarke chuckled, feeling both lucky and startled by this. "If there are signs that I need you to do this, I will let you know. Don't be so bloodthirsty yet." She nodded the others in the water. "We still have to get them to cooperate and to get to the Luwoda tribe. So let's prevent the bloodshed for now, until we need to."

Monroe nodded, saying nothing else. Clarke looked at the dial of her father's watch. "Alright." She said, dropping her arm and looking at the kids in the water. "I think it's time. We should take off now." She stepped closer to the water and yelled to the rest of the group, "Okay, guys! I think we should keep moving." She nodded to Niylah. "Niylah knows where we can get boats. The ones that we have at the dock here are too fragile. She's going to get us better boats." Clarke added, forcing herself to think about it as a way of getting the others to do what she wanted, "And seei it this way. If we get better boats, that means we'll be able to get into the water faster. And boats mean that we don't have to worry about not being able to swim."

Thankfully, Clarke got the excited looks that meant that they weren't going to complain. Monty, Jasper, Pascal and Trina were all grinning. Harper and Fox looked apprehensive and Finn looked like he didn't know what to feel about this.

Clarke said, "So why don't we get going and we can get these boats faster and we can go through the water in a more safe way faster?" The other kids nodded and started moving out of the water, their clothes soaked. Monty walked over, smiling, "So where's this place?" Clarke nodded, looking at Niylah. Niylah smiled. "Follow me."

She began walking and Clarke started following after the older woman. She looked back at the others, waiting for them to follow along. Monroe and Wells started moving. Trina, Pascal, Monty and Finn moved next. Then Harper, Fox and Jasper followed next. Clarke turned to look at Niylah's back. Again, they were following her. She held onto the gun in her arms. She really hoped that they could trust Niylah. All the while, she reminded herself that their radio was safe in Wells's hands and it wasn't going to be thrown into a river anytime soon. So for now, things were beginning to look up. But she knew how things turned out when it started looking like it was going for the better. It ended badly.

Near the dropship landing area, Leksa, Onya and their warriors came to the vast area of where the 'metal star' had crashed. Leksa saw the few bodies of the delinquents that had eaten the poisonous bodies. She frowned sadly. One of them looked very young. She searched the rest of the area. She could not see Klark anywhere or anyone else. She turned to Onya, needing confirmation. "The other bodies of the Sky People you found that died from the poisonous berries, Onya," She said to the older, "They were boys?"

Onya nodded. "Sha, Heda." She answered.

Leksa nodded, relieved. Klark hadn't eaten the poisonous berries. But there was still the question of where Klark was.

"Onya," Leksa said, looking at the woman who had at one time been her teacher, their horses shifting under them, "I have a task for you. I will take a group of my warriors and search for the last few Sky People in the south. You will take a group of your warriors and search the north. I will not rest until the last of them are found."

Onya nodded. "I understand, Heda. But I hope you can forgive me for this question. The other Sky People, there are only a few of them left. They wouldn't be much of a threat without the rest of their people. So why go after them? Why not just wait till they come back and we take them then."

Leksa sighed. Onya had good reason to ask what she asked. Why were only a few to be feared when the number that could make up a small army was captured? Why not? That was always their way. Taking out the very last one of an army always had been their way. But Onya didn't understand that that wasn't the reason why. She didn't know that it wasn't the last few of those Sky People she cared about and that Onya would come to care about too. It was just ONE that she cared about and that Onya would come to care about.

"I know," She said, "But we don't know anything about these Sky People. The more of them we have with us, under our control, the more we'll know. Now this is an order, Onya. An order you will give all your warriors. None of these other Sky People are to be harmed. Not even a bruise or a cut." She ordered. Onya nodded taking these orders seriously. Onya turned her horse and made it gallop across the ground, her warriors following her.

Leksa watched her old mentor leave. The warriors with Onya, if they were wise, WOULD obey her order. No harm was to come to those Sky People. Leksa did not care about the others, only Klark's safety. But if she had to say that "no Sky Person" was to be harmed, then that would ensure Klark's safety more effectively, then she would say it. She looked at the other warriors who would not be coming with her or going with Onya. "The rest of you, stay here." She yelled to them. "You will wait. If these Sky People come back, you will take them prisoner. And the same order that I gave Onya, I give you now. Do NOT harm any of these Sky People. We need answers from them. And for that, I will not risk any harm coming to them. Understood?"

The warriors nodded dutifully. Leksa turned back to the woods to her left. The southern part of the woods. She would search for Klark there. Klark, she thought, I'll find you, I promise. Onya and I will protect you and your people. You will have your every need met, Klark. I promise you, ai hodness.

She called the order for her warriors to follow and she pulled the reigns of her horse. The beast under her snorted and galloped across the ground, her warriors racing after her on their horses.

The shed they arrived at was low down, but long. Its walls looked sturdy and were made of metal. There was a plating that made the roof, made from wood and metal put together. The door was a few slabs of rock, metal and wood mesh, plus a pelt hanging from the top of the doorway as a curtain.

Clarke suspected that the others, save for Niylah and Monroe thought of this place as rundown. But by Grounder standards, Clarke knew, this was a fairly good house. Most Grounders that were self-sufficient had sheds a little smaller than this. This shed was actually a sign of how well off Niylah's uncle was compared to his peers. Clarke looked at the shed. Hopefully that meant that the boats were really, really sturdy. Niylah had been inside for around fifteen minutes now. Clarke recognized some of the words that were being shared between the niece and her uncle.

She was able to put together the lie that Niylah was making up so that her uncle believed that this trip was for good reason. What Niylah had put together was the lie to her uncle that the Commander had sent some warriors to Niylah to be taken to the further lands on boat, to request help from the Luwoda because of lack of good tools for a kind of woodcutting that they needed. It was a new wood being brought in from the Boudalan merchants. And there were tools needed for it. It wasn't too strange a lie, and the uncle sounded like he was buying it.

He told Niylah that he would give her the boats and barked for her to go around and get the other warriors to take them. A grateful Niylah said her thanks to her uncle and from the way it sounded, Clarke realized that Niylah was saying goodbye to her uncle, even though he didn't realize it. Clarke's heart stopped. Was Niylah really going to come with them? And she was going to stay with them? Permanently? Niylah would do that for her? For HER? Clarke breathed a small laugh. She wasn't sure she believed this. No one, except for Wells and Finn had ever done something like this for her, if Niylah meant it.

Was Niylah really willing to give up her home and live with her for the rest of her life?

Clarke, like with the comfort Niylah had given her before, wanted to believe a promise like that. But how could she after everything that happened? Her chest was tight, even when Niylah came out of the shed and nodded, smiling. "We have our boats." She looked at Clarke, stepping close, "Klark, we are going to Luwoda soon. We must get to the back of the shed. That's where he keeps the boats." Clarke nodded, feeling apprehensive. They were going to take the boats to the Luwoda and it didn't matter to her what got in the way. But Clarke wondered what Niylah was giving up in doing this.

"Niylah," Clarke started, watching Niylah's dark eyes with sadness, "Are you sure about this? We can take the boats and you can stay here if you want. You wouldn't have to leave your home, or your family. Just as long as you don't tell anyone who comes by and asks about us."

Niylah's small smile became big and soft. "No, Klark. I am coming with you. I've made my choice. My father and my uncle both know that it's time for me to make my own way in life. So they will not be too saddened. My land, I can give up. It's served me well for years. But I always knew one day that I would like to move on from it. So going with you, Klark, seems like the right thing to do."

Niylah added quietly, glancing at the others around them, "Even without the other reason." Clarke sighed, nodding. This still felt so strange that Niylah would do something like this for her. But Niylah was a full-grown woman. She could do what she wanted as long as she wasn't breaking the law or interfering in Clarke's plans. So how could Clarke refuse? Especially if she was being helpful?

"Alright." Clarke said, nodding. "Let's get to the boats." She nodded to the back of the shed. "Lead the way, Niylah."

Niylah walked around the shed, the others behind her. Clarke watched the other people in their group. The others didn't look like they were going to talk back about this whole idea. They were going along with it. Monroe walked along to her and Wells and said quietly, "You know, this is reminding me of a book that I read a while back in the…." Monroe finished in a quiet voice to Clarke, "In the other timeline." "Oh yea?" Clarke asked, checking to see if the others had heard what Monroe had said. They hadn't. "What was the book?"

Monroe answered quietly, "'Watership Down.' It's by Richard Adams." Clarke looked up ahead at Niylah's back. Watership Down? That name sounded familiar.

"Watership Down?" Clarke repeated. "That sounds like the book about the rabbits. Is that it?"

Monroe nodded, smiling. "Yeah. The rabbits trying to get away. And they ran into some bad rabbits."

Clarke smirked. The idea of "bad rabbits" seemed comical. But she knew about the book that Monroe was talking about. "Watership Down" was about a band of rabbits that were fleeing their "warren" to find a new warren where they would be safe. And they were all males, so they'd need to have babies to pass the warren on. So they tried to find females. That quest ended with their bird friend, "Kehaar" finding a warren full of female rabbits and running into a bunch of dangerous rabbits that wanted to overpower any rabbit they found.

"I don't see how." Clarke told Monroe. She didn't know for sure. But she had an idea of what Monroe was talking about. Monroe grinned. "Well, we're the rabbits, right? The leader of the group of rabbits is called Hazel. You're Hazel. We're the rest of the rabbits. We're trying to get to safety. We need to get away from our doomed warren. And the Mountain Men and the tribes are the bad rabbits and all the predators that the main rabbits have to worry about."

Clarke nodded. She saw what Monroe was saying. And she was sure that Monroe was right about that analogy. Sure, it was somewhat ignorant to call the other tribes "bad rabbits" when compared with the characters to the book. But she was sure she didn't care. It was a good analogy. The Mountain Men definitely were "bad rabbits." And their idiotic group of one hundred defined the term "doomed." Because they doomed themselves. Just like the rabbits that Hazel and his group ran from. The warren in that book was scheduled to be destroyed for construction by humans. So Hazel, his brother and some others had to run. The rest of the warren stayed and doomed everyone else.

"So I'm Hazel, huh?" Clarke said, smirking. Monroe nodded.

Clarke saw Wells thinking on this and he smiled. He nodded. "She's right. You're Hazel. You're the smart one."

Clarke chuckled, "So are you, Wells. We'll both be Hazel." Wells chuckled, smirking. Clarke looked at Monroe. "So who are you in the story?"

Monroe shrugged. "I don't know. Bigwig, maybe?"

"Bigwig?" Clarke answered back, searching her memory for who that was. There were a group of bunnies. The leader, Hazel, his brother, Fiver, and yes, Bigwig, the muscle. There were also the rabbits Silver, Dandelion, Blackberry. But that was the extent of her memory of the names of the rabbits.

"Yeah," Monroe nodded. "The big guy. He infiltrates the bad rabbits' lair." Clarke smirked. Monroe probably would do something that crazy. Clarke looked back at Niylah and they all turned a corner. Monroe and Wells stepped up next to her and Clarke heard the footsteps behind her.

"Alright, Monroe," Clarke said. "And who is everyone else if we really want to make this a 'Watership Down' comparison?"

Monroe smiled, not taking this as a joke. She looked back at the others and turned back to Clarke. "That's easy." She said, smirking. "Harper is Fiver. Monty's Blackberry. Finn's Dandelion. I think Pascal is Hawkbit. Jasper is Strawberry. Trina might be Bluebell. Fox? Maybe she's Pipkin."

Clarke was surprised by Monroe's knowledge of all these names. She snorted. "Wow. You're really into the book, huh?' She saw Monroe's cheeks become a light pink. She nodded.

Monroe added, "Yeah. I read the book after you left. It just really kind of left an impression on me. I really saw us in the rabbits and our situation was like theirs. So yeah, it meant a lot to me at the time. It still does."

Clarke paused, realizing that her joke fell flat. Monroe had needed a type of comfort. She needed to be told back then and maybe still did that she had a place where she belonged. So the book must have made Monroe feel like she was part of a tight-knit group that were there for each other. United against the world that wanted to beat down on them.

And Clarke knew exactly how that felt. She said quietly to Monroe, "Do you still see the rest of the one hundred like you'd see the group of rabbits in the book?"

Monroe shook her head at the question, now looking angry. "No. I used to. But all of them, especially Murphy, Octavia, Miller and Bellamy, I just can't stand them. They don't care about anyone but themselves."

Clarke nodded. She was grateful to Monroe for her showing that she came to understand the people that used to be their "friends." It was reassuring now to hear it. It meant that Monroe's potential of being trusted was strong. Clarke said, nodding to Niylah. "And who would she be?"

Monroe looked at Niylah's back. She shrugged. "Don't know. Who do you think?" Clarke smirked, "I don't know as much about that book as you do. I guess you'll have to decide."

Monroe chuckled. They reached the back of the shed, seeing a bunch of metal boats in front of them on the ground, tied to trees. Their motors were attached to the back of the boats. The motors looked like any other motor. They didn't look like they were destroyed and put back together. They looked like perfectly good and well put together motors.

"How many of these boats are we allowed?" Clarke asked Niylah.

Niylah turned to Clarke, smiling. "Three." She turned to the rest of the group. "How many of them know how to work these motors?"

Clarke shook her head. "I don't think any of them do." She looked at Monroe and Wells. "Do either of you know how?"

Monroe nodded. "I think I can do that. I've worked with a few machines."

"Back on the Ark, or…?" Clarke asked. She didn't want to say "in the other timeline," since the others were within earshot.

Monroe smirked. "Yes, Clarke, back on the Ark. Believe it or not, the people of the Ark DID think that we orphans were of some use. I was one of the kids that checked on some machines like motors for smaller parts of the Ark before I committed my crime."

Clarke nodded, smiling. And it looked like the skills that Monroe had were ongoing. She was impressed. "Okay." Clarke said. She looked at Niylah. "And you know how to operate these?" Niylah nodded. Clarke thought about this. So Monroe could be in one boat and Niylah could be in another. "Alright," Clarke said in a loud voice, telling what she wanted everyone to do, and turned around to look at the others, "We can take three boats max. Monroe and Niylah both know how to work the motors on the boats. So some of you can be in the boat with one of them and the others can be in the boat with the other. The third boat we can use for any supplies we have. Who else knows how to use the boats?"

She could see many blank expressions and she sighed. She hoped people knew how to use the motorboats. But like her, it looked like no one else did, except for Niylah and Monroe.

"I have an idea, Klark." Niylah said, walking over to stand next to her. "We can tie the third boat to the end of one of the other boats. And there could be people in that boat. And at any sharp turns, the people in that boat, using staffs could row the boat away from being tipped over." Clarke thought about it. It wasn't a bad idea. But they'd need the momentum of the boat's motor.

"You know how to use motors." Clarke said to Niylah. "Can you show the others how to do it?"

Niylah nodded. "I can. I will do that." Clarke smiled, appreciating it. They cut the ropes of the boats tied to the trees. Niylah had her pack on. Monroe and Wells had the other packs and Clarke, still with the gun around her shoulders, lifted up the first boat by its nose, Monroe helping her at the front and Wells and Finn at the back of the boat and they walked across the ground. Niylah, Fox, Harper and Pascal carried the second boat. And Jasper, Monty and Trina carried the other one with some difficulty. The eleven of them carried the three boats back over the way they came, taking breaks every now and then, since the water was still a few minutes away. The boats had staffs and rows in them, so Clarke and the others could use them when they needed.

And they went on their way to the water, with their boats with them. Clarke, when they put the boats down in front of the water, realized, smiling, looking at Monroe who was huffing in exhaustion, that this was a lot like the part in the book where "Blackberry" from Watership Down found the boat and realized that it floated in the river and the rest of the bunnies used it to escape eventually. Clarke smiled fondly at Monroe. Maybe the braided girl's obsession had more meaning than she thought.


	11. Tharn means 'Danger'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More spoiler warnings for 'Watership Down.' Even the title of this chapter is technically a spoiler. Own nothing of Watership Down-(obviously).

Hoisting the boats up and pushing them out into the water was more of an endeavor than any of them had expected, but it was done. Niylah had convinced everyone that she had spoken to Lincoln beforehand and that Lincoln was planning on joining them later with more boats and with Octavia. Clarke was so grateful to the older for her lie. They grabbed the oars after using the engines and the rudders to boat out into the water and the boat reached the rowboats. They used the rows and the poles to push the water around them and move the boats through the water in the direction they wanted. They boated past the docks where the rowboats were, then boated past the line of ground that was the shore.

They boated down the water. In one boat were Clarke, Wells, Finn, Monroe and Jasper. In the boat behind them were Niylah, Harper, Monty and Fox. In the boat behind them were Pascal and Trina and the other supplies. They all rowed along. Clarke had been hesitant to allow Monroe or Finn in the boats with her. Jasper too. But she decided it was for the best. Why risk skittish Jasper who eventually would care only about his own comfort, lying and flirtatious Finn or the wildcard, Monroe in the boat with the supplies? Or risk them in the boat with what might be their greatest Grounder ally?

So Monroe, Jasper and Finn were going to stay in this boat with her where she could see them. Clarke alternated between rowing and keeping an eye on the three of them.

She didn't trust any of them. But she trusted Monroe the most. Not by much, but luckily more than Jasper or Finn. She had reason, a lot of reasons actually, not to trust either of them. Jasper starting the war between the Grounders came to mind by firing at the archers in the trees at the bridge when she and Anya had met up in the first timeline. Then there was that time Jasper had sided with the Mountain Men all for safety and comfort even though she had warned him.

Finn was a somewhat different animal. He was trustworthy to a point. But more trustworthy from a certain point of view. He was trustworthy because unlike Jasper, he wanted peace with the Grounders. He wasn't scared of them from the beginning like Jasper always had been. He wanted peace with them. In the other timeline, he had even helped arrange the meeting between Clarke and Anya on the bridge. Yes, Finn had lied to her from the beginning. But he would have done anything to protect her and Raven. He was a good man. But to a fault. And that was the problem. He would do anything to protect those he loved. So when he experienced trauma, he snapped.

Finn was more trustworthy than Jasper. But to a point.

Then there was Monroe. Sure, Monroe had been alive longer than Pascal and Trina in the other timeline. But like the two of them, Clarke felt like she didn't know her that well. Clarke had liked Monroe well enough in the other timeline. Sure, she didn't trust the other girl because of how loyal Monroe used to be to Bellamy, but now? Now, Clarke wasn't sure what to think of Monroe.

She realized while they were circling around the land and going through a small patch of rough waters and Clarke had to reassure Jasper when he nervously mumbled about them not being able to swim, that there was a lot about Monroe she didn't know. She reminded Jasper that they had floatation devices for safety measures in case anyone fell into the water. She was not going to mention that she knew how to swim. Or that Niylah was the one that had been the one to teach her in the other timeline.

She realized when they were about two hours into their boat trip, as she watched Monroe occasionally watch her when she thought Clarke wasn't looking, that she wanted to know Monroe better. She wanted to know this strange and talented young woman who was so loyal to her now. Clarke had never known that Monroe knew how to read and cook. She'd admit that maybe the reading part was more than a little condescending on her part. She would have to apologize to Monroe for that.

And then there was the way Monroe looked at her. Clarke had been wondering if she was just imagining it, but there were times when Monroe looked at her as if she thought that the sun revolved around her. Like she was the most amazing person she had ever seen. Clarke tried not to look too much into it. She had caught the way Monroe looked at Niylah whenever Niylah made some devoted comment to Clarke. Monroe's eyes were filled with jealousy. That, and Monroe's new devotion, plus the way she looked at Clarke, led Clarke to believe in one reason only for this new behavior. Maybe it was jut a crush. Maybe it was deeper than that. But either way, Monroe was fixated on Clarke.

Was it love? Actually being in love? Or just infatuation? Clarke wasn't sure. She didn't know Monroe that well and wasn't a mind reader. So she had no idea. And she saw no reason not to take advantage of it. Monroe's devotion would mean that she would be more willing to do what Clarke asked, so that would mean that she would be more likely to do what was needed for her and the others to survive long enough for the Ark to come down.

And since Clarke had decided that it was her turn to live it up a little, why not take full advantage? Yes, she sure as hell wanted that warm and soft relationship that she had had with Niylah. But Monroe offered an intriguing possibility. They had been traveling on their third hour when Clarke entertained the possibility of pursuing a relationship with them both. She quickly threw the idea away. She needed to keep both their loyalties. Not make them both pissed off at her. She knew that despite the training she had gained in the other timeline and being able to take down a panther, Niylah was still a more experienced fighter than her and had muscles because of training since childhood. And Monroe? For all Clarke knew, Monroe could kick her ass. She wasn't sure if there wasn't a physical skillset that Monroe was secretly keeping from her as well, but she wouldn't be surprised. And Monroe, like her, knew how to use a gun.

So trying to get into both of their beds, probably wasn't a good idea. Being a leader meant that she'd have to be a diplomat in more than one way. And by being a diplomat, she had to not piss people off. Not pissing off the two people that were potentially in love with her was a fairly big step in being a diplomat. It was one of those irritating things about being a leader. She would figure out how to navigate her life between Monroe and Niylah later. Right now, she had to think about getting them all to the Luwoda tribe.

She was listening to Monty and Jasper making sea creature jokes and Jasper wondering loudly what kind of drugs they could make from some of the sea creatures around the fourth hour when Clarke noticed Monroe doing something. She glanced over at the braided girl, trying to keep her interest hidden. The other girl was digging her hands into her pockets and to Clarke's surprise, Monroe pulled out a small camera. The braided girl was taking a few pictures through the camera of the water. Clarke looked over the edge of the boat that sliced through the water fast and easy, thanks to the motor. What glimpses she could get of what was in the water was reason enough to understand why Monroe was taking pictures.

Jellyfish. There were lots of big, long jellyfish. Some white. Mostly purple. Clarke grimaced. They were pretty, sure. But also dangerous. She knew what jellyfish could do. Sting. And sometimes that stinging could be fatal. Especially if there were more than one jellyfish. She tried to think about the jellyfish she knew were in this area. As far as she knew, none of the stinging jellyfish around here were dangerous. But because of how many of them there were, that could change fast.

"Guys," Clarke said loudly, so that everyone could hear her, "Don't fall into the water. There's jellyfish in there. And we don't want to find out if they'll sting us or not." She saw Jasper tense up nervously. Monty did too. But Monty was better at holding it together than Jasper was, as Clarke knew. He always had been. Wells inched closer to her protectively. He held one of the radios close. Clarke looked behind her at the other boats. Pascal, Trina and Fox all looked nervous by this revelation. Niylah, because she was so used to these waters was unfazed totally. Clarke turned back to the front of the boat, looking ahead at the expansive sea. She yelled again loudly, "Just telling you so you'll be safe. Just stay put."

If they didn't, besides Wells, Monroe and Niylah and Monty too because he was useful, that wasn't her concern. Her objective was to stay alive so that the Ark could come down. Nothing else. She had learned that if someone wanted to get killed by stupidity, they would get killed by stupidity, whether she wanted to help or not.

And there was no help for people who wanted to die by stupidity, really no help whatsoever.

Clarke looked over the edge of the boat again, into the water at the many jellyfish swimming alongside them. Jellyfish weren't violent. Not unless you fell in and bothered them. The problem was that jellyfish weren't that smart and couldn't read peoples' minds. Creatures like whales, dolphins, orcas? Chances were that they wouldn't bother a person if they fell in with those creatures. Because those mammals were very smart. And they had sonar. They could tell if a creature meant harm or not.

But jellyfish had no such thing. And their brains, if they had any, were likely tiny. From what little Clarke knew of them, their sensors were all in their tendrils. So any disruption in their swimming might set them off. As far as Clarke knew, she hoped they got far away from these jellyfish as soon as they could. The less danger their party was in, the better. And as long as they were out of danger, the sooner the Ark could come down.

Which reminded her, she'd need to check the people on the Ark through the radio soon. Clarke looked down at the radio in Wells's hands. She said to him quietly, "Wells, could you sit down? I don't want that radio dropping into the water." She knew damn well that the radio could be killed by water. Bellamy's selfishness had proved that by throwing the radio into the water.

Wells looked down at the radio, then nodded, smiling at his best friend. He sat down with the radio on his lap.

Monroe shifted on her seat over to Clarke, holding up the camera in her hands and showed the screen on the back of the small, silver camera to Clarke. Clarke looked down at the screen. The picture of the long, graceful jellyfish was very impressive. Monroe smiled up at Clarke. She looked at everyone else and made sure they weren't close before she whispered up to Clarke. "I thought maybe you'd like to draw these guys." Clarke's mouth dropped. She hadn't thought about painting or drawing in forever. After the mountain, it was like something had broken everything she used to be inside of her. And something she had done much of before the mountain and something she barely did after killing the Mountain Men, was painting.

Painting and drawing hadn't even entered her mind since the mountain. She hadn't done it once since the mountain. Not in the last timeline and she hadn't even thought of it in this timeline, till Monroe said something about it.

Monroe added, smile becoming awkward when Clarke said nothing and added quietly, "I remember you drawing and painting back when you were at the camp. And your mom told me after you left that you used to draw and paint a lot on the Ark. That your skybox was covered in drawings."

Clarke nodded, smiling at Monroe. Monroe didn't realize how much Clarke had lost in her experience of drawing and painting since the mountain in the other timeline. She was worn out of painting and drawing. Maybe it had only been a day or two since she had last drawn in this timeline, because she had been away from her skybox for only a couple of days. But it didn't change that her mental experience spanned for much longer than that. So she didn't know how good her drawing and painting skills were now.

Still, Monroe was trying to do something nice for her. Clarke couldn't help her gratitude. Her smile widened. "Thanks, Monroe. I really appreciate it." And she did. It was nice to see that someone besides Wells, who had known her for their whole lives, was thinking of Clarke's interests and what Clarke would like to do. Clarke remembered Anya asking her something similar in the other timeline. About what Clarke's interests were. But Clarke had stopped trusting the Commander's pet general after the mountain, so she had told Anya after the mountain, when Anya had asked, nothing, much to Anya's sadness. So the commander and the general never learned that Clarke had at one time loved to paint and draw.

And Clarke did not see this as a bad thing. She saw it as safe. She was safer with Anya and Lexa knowing less about her so that Anya and Lexa could use less against her.

At Clarke's words, Monroe beamed. She put the camera away, back into her pocket. Seeing the camera disappear, Clarke asked the other girl, "Where did you get the camera from anyway?" Clarke regretted the question quickly, wondering if it came off as offensive, since Monroe used to be a thief. Monroe's smirk got rid of that worry. The braded girl shrugged. "Where do you think? I stole it. It belonged to one of the guards at my skybox. He liked taking pervy pictures of women. So I snatched it off of him." Monroe had a proud grin on her face and Clarke chuckled.

Between what Monroe had done for Roma and the reason Monroe was saying she took the camera, Clarke was getting the sense from the other girl that the braided girl was a defender of other women and unapologetically so. Clarke added, knowing that she had said this before, but she knew she should say it again. "I'm really sorry about Roma."

Monroe frowned, nodding. "I didn't warn her last time about Bell. Because I trusted him too. But I did warn her this time while we were being put into the dropship. And it made no difference. She still told me that she was going to sleep with Bellamy to keep herself safe. She told me as soon as he started mouthing off before. So there's really no help for it." Monroe shook her head. "I said my goodbyes to her a long time ago."

Clarke sighed. It was morbid, but that made sense. Kind of the same way Clarke had given up on everyone after everything in the last timeline. When she knew what would happen already, it was hard not to feel immensely jaded.

She knew it was a terrible thing to think, but she had been keeping in mind since she had come down to keep a close watch on Wells and not to get too attached to either Finn or to Jasper. One of them because he'd get himself killed and the other because he was too untrustworthy and wouldn't follow orders.

Because Clarke knew how they would react in the kinds of situations that were going to occur. Or would have occurred. So it was difficult for her to think of a reason for why she could trust them. Why she should. Clarke watched Monroe's somber, but calm look. "Still," She said, nodding. "I'm sorry."

Monroe smiled, looking up at Clarke again. "Thank you, Clarke."

Clarke nodded, dragging the long staff up and putting it back in the water, rowing against the rough, salty water. Monroe had warned Roma this time around, and still Roma had done the dumb thing and hadn't listened to Monroe and was most likely going to die the same way. It made Clarke wonder how different things were going to be this time, even with what they knew. Would they be different in any way? Sure, they were different already. She, Monroe and Niylah remembered. They were almost halfway down the oceans of the United States. And Wells was still alive and healthy. And hopefully Charlotte, Murphy and several of the others, including Bellamy were dead. She couldn't count on it, but she really hoped so.

She knew she should have been disgusted with herself for hoping for Bellamy and the others' deaths, but she wasn't.

Clarke knew what needed to be done and the others, Octavia and Bellamy included had proven that they did not care about the group. Just themselves.

So death for them might actually be a good thing for her and everyone still alive on the Ark. As much as Clarke knew she should have mourned their loss, she knew a positive thing by now when she saw one, even if it came in a grim guise.

Clarke looked down at Monroe again, thinking about what Monroe might feel for her. She wanted to ask Monroe about why she acted the way she acted around her. But here, on a boat on the ocean and trying to get to the Luwoda tribe while Lexa and her forces were looking for them was not the time or place to do it. She needed to speak with Monroe privately and in a less isolated place. It was going to be a long boat ride, but they would be going through the Luwoda territory and then would be on a ship for a while, heading for South America. Clarke wanted to trust what Niylah said about the Luwoda helping them get to South America, but she couldn't be sure.

She looked back at Niylah, who didn't look like she was wavering even a moment. Clarke decided to herself that she'd check things with Niylah and speak with the others on the Ark through the radio.

That was her new to-do list, till they got to South America. She looked back ahead at the wide ocean in front of them. For now, they had to get to the Luwoda tribe. They had to get to Florida.

Back on Trikru land, Leksa arrived with her warriors at a large, square shaped hole in the ground. The trail they had followed, through the tracks they studied, led them to where they were now. A square hole in the ground. There were machines within the hole. It looked like someone had taken these machines apart. The even more troubling thing, Leksa found, was that some of her scouts spotted Linkin and his friends deep in the forest.

They were seen weakly and clumsily stumbling through the forest. They eventually, much to Leksa's surprise, found Oktevia behind some bushes, the girl's nose bloody and broken. When they had gotten the girl patched up and sat her up and got her to clear her head, she was able to see the people around her and she reacted as Leksa imagined the stubborn girl to react.

She was distrusting and didn't obey in any way until they brought up finding Linkin and his friends in the forest. All of them had been intoxicated because of some food they ate. Leksa and her warriors recognized the signs. It was Jacobi nuts. But Linkin and his friends claimed they had eaten meat with sauce on it and that was it. All of them gave the same story. They had met with the Sky people, a woman named Niylah was amongst them. Leksa recognized the name of the trader. Jethro's daughter. Linkin told them that they had helped Klark and the others look at the "radios" and that Klark said that she saw Ripas in the woods and had run after them.

Then Oktevia had given her story. And it was a troubling one. Klark had attacked Oktevia. She had taken her gun and slapped it into Oktevia's face. More than once and knocked her out and broke her nose. That was why there was blood on Oktevia's face.

Leksa stared at Oktevia, tempted to pull her knife out and threaten the young Sky girl with it. But she stopped herself. Threatening Oktevia would not help. She took a deep breath, sitting calmly on the mossy log she and Oktevia were on, watching the younger and choosing her next words carefully. "Oktevia kom Skaikru, tell me. Are you certain that Klark was the one that hurt you?"

Oktevia nodded, Leksa's heard falling. "Hell yeah." Oktevia grumbled, hand still at her wounded nose. "Psycho princess bashed me in the face. After Lincoln and his friends left, she hit me right in the face with her gun. She's a complete psycho." Oktevia's mouth wrinkled in disgust. "No wonder Jaha threw her out of the Ark. Who would want her?"

Leksa's green eyes darkened to a stormy color. She did not know why Klark would do what Oktevia described her doing, but she would not allow Oktevia to speak in this way about Klark.

She did not know what the word "psycho" meant, but Oktevia's reaction showed that it didn't mean anything flattering. Leksa's right hand hovered above the pommel of her knife, just itching to pull the weapon out and threaten Oktevia with it.

She said in an icy voice, "What do you mean by 'psycho?'" She asked the younger brunette. They were surrounded by Leksa's warriors and the Commander was just waiting for a reason to discipline Oktevia.

Oktevia shrugged, glaring at Leksa as if her words were obvious. "You know." She said. "Psycho. Meaning she's nuts. Crazy. A wacko. Cray-cray." None of these words Leksa understood. But she understood the insult behind each and every one of them. And Oktevia was talking this way about Klark. Anger boiled over and Leksa's right hand went to Oktevia's throat, wrapping around the pale column. Leksa applied pressure without even thinking and squeezed. Oktevia's eyes bulged and she gasped for breath. Weak hands batted at Leksa's hand, doing nothing. Oktevia was yanked off the log by Leksa when the Commander stood up. The younger kicked at Leksa's legs.

These actions caused the guards around Leksa to restrain Oktevia's arms. Another guard grabbed Oktevia's legs and restrained them. Leksa's blood boiled. But she knew if she wanted Klark's favor back, she needed to spare Klark's friends. Despite knowing what Klark had done to Oktevia, Leksa couldn't count on the possibility that Klark might trust her if she killed someone that the blonde knew.

So Leksa knew she had to tread carefully. She sighed, regretting that she was allowing Oktevia to keep her life and her tongue after the younger had spoken in that way about Klark, but she knew she had to do it. She released Oktevia's throat and backed away from the younger.

Oktevia gasped out, panting, staring at Leksa with fury and shock and horror. "What the hell was that about?!"

Leksa let out angered breaths. She had to get herself under control. She had to control her feelings. None of her warriors knew what she knew. Her actions right now were questionable. They wouldn't understand why she had reacted the way she had. And if they did, they would call her weak for her feelings. Them knowing was not possible. And she wanted to hurt Oktevia, hurt her so much more for what she had said about Klark. But she knew she couldn't. But at the same time, Leksa was at a loss. Why would Klark have attacked Oktevia?

That thought alone brought Leksa's anger down. Her mind went into focus. Klark had attacked Oktevia. Klark had hit Oktevia and left her here instead of taking her with the rest of the group. Why? What was going on here?

Leksa said, trying to ignore her troubled thoughts, "Bring Oktevia kom Skaikru and Linkin and his friends to Polis. Keep them under watch. Captive. Do not let them out of your sight. Throw Oktevia in with the other Skaikru."

Leksa heard many calls of "Sha, Heda!" Oktevia was dragged from the spot by the Commander's guards, pulling her to the horses. Oktevia was screaming at them to let her go and yelling things like "fuck you!" at the Commander. Not that she cared. Linkin and his friends, she knew she could not trust. It had only been the very first couple of days since the Skaikru had come down and already Linkin had betrayed his people.

And the way Oktevia was talking about Klark? Leksa could never trust her. Not in this lifetime,

When Oktevia disappeared, bound on horseback, led by Leksa's warriors, Leksa led her warriors to her horse, thinking, troubled. Why would Klark leave Oktevia here? Klark hadn't done anything like that in the other life. Yes, Klark had left Oktevia at Ton DC. But only when there had been a war that had been going on. Klark would never have abandoned Oktevia when there wasn't a war on. So what possibly could have made Klark do this?

Why had Klark left Oktevia? A thought occurred to Leksa. Klark was doing things differently than she had in the other timeline. Was that confirmation, then? Did...did Klark really remember? The thought made Leksa shiver. She knew that Klark had never forgiven her and Onya for Mount Weather. Klark had made that clear in the other timeline every chance she got. If it was true that she remembered, then there was no chance for Onya or Leksa to earn forgiveness.

Pain coiled inside Leksa's chest. She couldn't think that. She couldn't think it. But even if Klark remembered, why would she have left Oktevia here? Leksa stopped in her tracks, next to her horse, thinking. That was a good question. Why would Klark have left Oktevia? And Leksa's soldiers had scoured the woods. There were no Ripas in the woods. So what had Klark meant by saying she saw some? If Klark remembered and had arranged it so that Oktevia, Linkin and Linkin's friends could not follow, why had she done it? What did Klark gain by doing this? Hadn't Linkin come back to Mount Weather after Leksa, Ony and their army had left. So why leave him too?

Leksa's troubled thoughts brought her to a possibility that she didn't like. She had heard what happened before. Klark had been betrayed and brought to Pyke, the new leader of the Skaikru. Was Klark intending to leave everyone behind? Had she given up? Leksa shuddered. But Klark had done it before, hadn't she? After the mountain. She left everyone behind. It had taken the Ice Nation Prince, Roan to track her down and bring her back.

Was Klark doing that now? Did she remember and give up completely on her people? And on the Trikru?

If Klark was leaving, where was she going? Leksa felt panic. No. Klark couldn't leave. Not again. Leksa practically flew up onto her horse's saddle, grabbing the reins. She called an order to her warriors, commanding them to follow her.

Leksa remembered where Linkin said Niylah had led Klark and their group. To Niylah's uncle's house. Leksa remembered where that was. South of here. Her uncle had boats. Some of these boats even used tek. If that was so, then Klark might be intending to leave the land.

Leksa's heart raced. Why? Why was Klark leaving? Did she remember everything? Had she given up? Leksa couldn't allow this. She had to capture the last of the one hundred and keep Klark safe.

Even if Klark recalled everything and hated her and Onya for it, she couldn't give up on Klark. She had to be there for the blonde.

She snapped the reins and kicked her horse's sides, tearing off down the trail to the south fast, hoof beats pounding behind her. She had to find Klark.

About nine hours from what used to be Florida, where the Luwoda tribe was lurked, the group bated along. During their time in the boats, Clarke listened to Monroe recite the plot of "Watership Down" to her. Clarke had to say it was kind of endearing to see the girl who she had formerly seen as passive and tough to be this, well, "fangirlish" over something. Obviously Monroe adored this novel.

Monroe carried on, sitting down on one of the seats of the boat and grinning up at Clarke while the blonde and Finn paddled away. "So they have all these different words for everything. And they have their own mythology. Frith the creator of everything. The black rabbit of Inle, the personification of death, El-ahrairah-the prince with a thousand enemies, one of his enemies is King Darzin. Prince Rainbow's pawn. Prince Rainbow works for Frith to make sure that Prince El-ahirairah doesn't step out of line. Because rabbits multiply so much and they eat everything green, it's for the sake of balance for the rest of the creatures on land.

"That's why Frith makes predators like foxes, wolves, hawks, dogs, cats, bears and stuff." Monroe continued, voice matter-of-fact as if it was all obvious, still smiling.

Clarke laughed, rowing, noticing Finn, Wells and Jasper's bewildered looks. "That all sounds interesting. Sounds like you're really into that book, Monroe." Monroe shrugged, a light blush rushing to her cheeks. Clarke continued, "So these rabbits have their own language?"

"Yep," Monroe nodded, "They have a word for everything. The language is called 'Lapine.' They call predators like foxes, badgers and hawks nildel, homba and lendri. They call cats 'pfeffas' and dogs 'rowfs.'"

"They even have their own name for leader. Rah. It's for prince or leader." Monroe smiled up at Clarke in meaning.

Clarke chuckled, rolling her eyes. So she was the 'Rah' in this scenario?

Flattering. "What other stuff is in there?" She asked, a sudden thought coming to her if anything went wrong later on. "I mean about the language."

"Oh," Monroe said, shrugging, "Lots. There's words for food. A burrow for rabbits, which is 'owsla.' There's also a word for what we are. Homeless rabbits." Monroe smiled fondly, despite the word 'homeless' attached to her sentence. "The word is 'Hlessi.'"

Clarke nodded, chuckling. "I need to ask something." She said. "Is there a word for 'danger' in that language?"

Monroe nodded. "Oh, heck, yes. Rabbits are terrified little creatures and everything is trying to eat them. So of course they have a word that means 'danger.' Tharn. It means scared. Something that makes the rabbits petrified, basically. There's also 'bralnao.' Means the same thing. Fear, essentially." Clarke nodded. Okay. Tharn. That was their word. That was their code word. Bralnao could be used for other dangers.

Tharn. For danger. That was important to remember. Tharn meant danger. "Alright." Clarke said, nodding. "Then thank Monroe, everyone. Because we have a code word for when we're in danger." She faced the others and at the confusion she got, including from Monroe, she sighed, "We don't want anyone who is trying to hurt us to know that we're alerting each other to the danger, right? Tharn. That should be our code word. When we're in danger and other people in our group don't know that, that's the word we'll us to alert everyone else."

Monroe looked surprised, but smiled, nodding. "Okay." She said, grinning then. "Sounds good." Clarke looked at Jasper, Wells and Finn for confirmation. The three of them all nodded slowly. Wells was quickly onboard. Jasper was grinning, obviously wanting to be a part of this and look cool while he nodded. Clarke looked then to Finn expectantly. The brown-haired unfaithful young man nodded slowly, raising his eyebrows.

'We'll tell the others when we get ashore." Clarke continued. "But we'll have to be quiet about it. Since I'm sure there will be hundreds of Luwoda warriors around where we land, since we're going to their territory, we don't want them to hear the new code word. Understand?"

Again she got four answering nods. Clarke added, "And we'll use bralnao for other situations. While 'tharn' should be used for things like ambushes and when someone is planning on turning on us, 'bralnao' should be used for when we know we're being watched." She got more nods, and she smiled.

She nodded back and turned to the ocean in front of her. It was just going to be four or five more hours now. And they had plenty of fresh, clean drinking water until then. She then was reminded of the other very important source of sustenance that all living creatures needed when Jasper announced quietly, "Um, well, what's the rabbit word for 'food?' Because right now I'd like some of that."

Monroe chuckled. "Yes, there's a word for that. But the characters are all rabbits. So they only eat green stuff. They call it 'flay.' I guess food in general is 'flay.'" Monroe added and Clarke didn't need to turn around to know that the braided girl was grinning, "And I guess that's fitting. There was this chef back in the old world before the bombs hit. He was a great cook. I saw old episodes of him. His name was Bobby Flay."

Clarke found herself smiling. Okay. So there was another note about Monroe. Monroe really liked cooking and she really liked 'Watership Down.' It was kind of adorable.

This thought led to the next issue that Clarke had been thinking about a lot lately. Monroe. Niylah. What were their feelings when it came to her? Niylah made hers really damn clear. Clarke didn't know if she trusted Niylah's claims, but Niylah was still obvious. But Monroe? Monroe hadn't made anything known or obvious. Sure, there were some suspicions that Clarke had about her. The way the braided girl looked at her for one, was kind of a tip. And so was Monroe's devotion. Monroe's obedience at everything Clarke asked of her. But she didn't have anything really solid.

She hadn't heard any confession of love from Monroe like she had from Niylah. All she had to go on were suspicions. And if it was true? If Monroe DID love her? Or claimed that she loved her? Again, she was left with the question of what she should do. Nothing? Risk pleasure and even happiness by pursuing a relationship with one of them or both of them? Clarke wasn't sure she knew. Clarke glanced back at the sitting Monroe who was starting to open up the food packs. She pulled out two packs of dried fruit and pulled out a protein pack and pack of what Clarke recognized as seasonings. Spices.

Clarke chuckled. Looked like Monroe was going to try to exercise some of her cooking skills that she apparently wanted to show off so much.

Clarke nodded. Great. So they were getting some food. Hopefully that would hold off Jasper's whining for a while. Again, Clarke had a hard time really reconciling how bitter she had gotten and how convinced she had become that her people were useless. Had dying done this to her? Or had it been everything? Everything that she had gone through. All the betrayals at the hands of the people that she had thought would never betray her? Or had it been both? Was it all the trauma of all the shit the Grounders, her people and the Mountain Men had put her through? All of it combined? What the hell had made her so jaded? Clarke breathed out a grim chuckle. So these people now had "'Clarke Griffin, the cynical and jaded rah" for their leader. Well, if that wasn't one fuck of a title, then she didn't know what was.

Clarke took her eyes away from the water only to occasionally watch Monroe spill the fruits and protein out of the bags, on pieces of bark that Niylah had packed and she mixed them together, dumping some of the spices on them in careful amounts so that the spices weren't too strong.

Clarke watched while Monroe added some nuts and smeared up some blue berries, washing her hands in the sea afterwards and deliberately dropping some saltwater onto the dishes she had made. Clarke smirked at Jasper's worried words of, "Are we sure the saltwater's safe to eat?"

Monroe and Clarke shared a look of amusement at Jasper's words. They had been around the world long enough to know a few drops from the ocean wouldn't do anything at all to them. The pollution that had soaked into the ground and waters wouldn't do anything to them. It had burned out and if they WERE going to gain cancer of some kind from it? Well, fuck, that was just one more problem that they would have to deal with. But they had loads and loads of other things that would probably kill them first.

So how about they worry about those things first before the radiation?

Monroe had effectively, to Clarke's surprise, made a bunch of dishes for each of them. She handed the piece of bark with a pile of meat, smeared berries and fruits off to Jasper first. Then to Wells and Finn. She handed one off to Clarke, smiling at her. Clarke took the "plate," the piece of bark, basically and nodded, grateful. Again, Clarke got a hint of Monroe's feelings when she locked eyes with the braided girl's green ones.

Monroe stared at her with what Clarke realized down in her gut was longing. Clarke tried not to shiver at the look. Her suspicions of Monroe's feelings for her were getting harder to deny. When she took the tablet of bark from Monroe's hand, she could see Monroe lower her gaze, disappointment visible in the braided girl's eyes.

Clarke looked away, trying to ignore the guilt that started to eat at her. If Monroe really DID have feelings for her, was she being unfair by not telling her that she thought so? Was she being unfair by assuming that everyone was the same now? Clarke thought about that and pushed the guilt aside. Sure, she was probably being unfair, but wasn't that the safest thing? She had trusted so many people. And so many of those people had betrayed her. One of them had even led her to her death by handcuffing her and giving her to Pike after he tricked her into trusting him. So no, Clarke supposed she, while being unfair, knew that the first thing was to keep herself and everyone else safe. And if that meant she had to ice everyone out, then that was a must. She had thought she could trust the person she had thought of as closest to her besides Anya and Lexa the last time and not only had Anya and Lexa betrayed her, but that person who she thought would never betray her, Bellamy had betrayed her too.

For revenge.

All for his own personal revenge. He was a monster. And she couldn't trust him. And if she had it confirmed to her that she couldn't trust someone she had fought with, suffered with and pulled a lever with, killing thousands of people with, then who could she trust?

It didn't leave a lot of options open. Bellamy, her mother, Finn, Anya, Lexa. All the people closest to her. They had betrayed her.

Clarke looked at Wells, who was picking up pieces of the spice and berry rubbed meat and fruit together between his fingers. Her brother. Wells was the only one closest to her who hadn't betrayed her yet. Warmth seeped into Clarke's chest and stomach. She didn't want to believe that Wells would ever backstab her, but she had to be incredibly careful. If all of her choices were going to count, like bullets, then she had to be careful of every single person with her. Even if that included Wells.

She turned away from Wells and Monroe both, observing the braided girl and Wells handing off other bark plates to the people in the boats behind them, telling them to pass the plates along to the others.

Maybe she'd learn to trust again. But for now, her heart had to be shut off to everyone around her. Even to her brother. Even to two women who might just be in love with her. She had to focus on going down their path and keeping people safe. Maybe when they reached South America and lay their roots down and when the rest of the Ark came to join them, maybe, just maybe she could learn to trust and loosen up. But right now? She just couldn't.

Clarke leaned her head down and took one nub of the meat between her teeth and began to chew, keeping her oar in the water and rowing.

Along the string of boats, in the middle wooden vessel, Niylah watched Monti and Hapah row the oars against the tide. Niylah was making sure the engine moved along and all the while, observing the other three people with her in the boats. These Sky People that she knew nothing about. Niylah knew Klark. She trusted and loved Klark. These people behind her and the people with her on the boat were strangers. She turned to Foks who was still looking at her nervously. She smiled at the girl. "Is there something wrong, Foks kom Skaikru?" She asked the young girl.

Foks shook her head, but shifted around on the boat. Niylah wasn't convinced. "You don't need to worry about me." She told the young girl. "I won't hurt you. You are one of Klark's people. I will protect Klark's people, just like I promised her." Niylah shifted her bark plate closer to herself, picking up the pieces of fruit and meat and taking a few bites.

Foks nodded, still tense. "I understand." She said quietly. "I just…I've never met a Grounder before you or the other Grounders that we met before." Niylah smiled, eating her food. This girl didn't know what to think of a new people. A new culture that she had never met before. It was understandable that this girl, Foks was nervous and distrusting at first. Unfortunately, Niylah remembered that in the previous time, many of Klark's people had been distrustful. And worse still, murderous.

They killed hundreds of people in their sleep. Charged a peaceful village full of children and elders. Foks did not look the type who would do such a thing And neither did Monti nor Hapah. But Niylah knew that appearances could be deceiving. Maybe they had been a part of the many murders and the attempted invasions of villages. There was no way she could know, since they didn't remember anything.

If Klark claimed that Wels and Munroh kom Skaikru weren't a part of those attacks, then she would believe it, but Klark hadn't shown any true intentions of trusting these three people. And Klark showed obvious aversion to the Sky people Fin, Jaspa and Oktevia. But there was a difference between Jaspa and Fin and Oktevia. Klark had left Oktevia behind. She hadn't left Jaspa or Fin behind.

Why? What was so terrible about Oktevia that Klark had felt the need to leave the brown-haired Skaikru girl behind? Niylah looked over at the other two Sky People, Treena and Paaskal. She knew nothing about these two either. But since Klark had brought them along and was trusting them with some of the supplies, Niylah supposed that they were not that much of a threat.

Niylah turned back to the boat up ahead, staring at Klark's back. Klark didn't know this, but Niylah meant everything she had said back at her and her father's trading post. She would and intended to do anything for Klark. Perhaps Klark would not allow her the chance to show her. But Niylah meant it. And always would. Still, Niylah had to wonder if there were any chances for her and Klark together. If not, Niylah would not pressure Klark. She would not make the younger feel like she was supposed to be with her, even though Niylah was certain that they were meant to be together.

She would not make Klark feel like she owed her or anything of the like. But Niylah would prove herself worthy of Klark's attention, even if the younger refused her eventually.

And she would continue to serve Klark long after any rejection came.

Niylah ate more of her food and looked over at the first boat where Klark was. Now about those other people with Klark? Klark seemed to trust Wels and Munroh the most. But Jaspa and Fin she acted like she needed to keep them under supervision. She wondered what these two had done to make Klark suspicious of them. They must not have done something as terrible as whatever Oktevia had done, for Fin and Jaspa were not left behind as Oktevia was by Klark.

So why had Klark left Oktevia? Niylah didn't know. But she would ask. Should Klark choose not to answer, she would not push. But she understood that Klark's life in the previous timeline had been very painful. It had to have been. Her strong Klark would not have broken apart like that back on the shore. Klark had actually been crying in Niylah's arms. What had made her fall apart like that? Niylah narrowed her eyes at Fin and Jaspa. If either of them were in any way responsible for why Klark had broken apart like that, then Niylah would kill them. But only with Klark's permission.

Should Klark give her permission, Niylah would cut them apart, piece by piece. Slit their throats.

And Niylah was sure she would enjoy it. If either of them were in any way responsible for the way Klark reacted back onshore, Niylah would punish them. She would use her knife and use it expertly.

Niylah calmed herself. She needed to remain calm. If her bloodlust was obvious, then none of her companions would let their guard down around her. If they didn't? It would be harder for Klark. And Niylah would never get her chance to either prove herself or to kill Jaspa or Fin, if it turned out that Niylah's suspicions were true.

So Niylah just looked forward and forced herself to appear calm. She knew where she was going. Where they were going. The Luwoda's territory. Should Klark decide, then yes, Niylah would go with her to this "South America." But Niylah hoped that Klark would consider remaining with the Shallow Valley people. Niylah knew that what ailed Klark were many things. Amongst them were pain and most likely loneliness as well. Niylah knew that look in Klark's eyes when she had fallen apart before in her arms. It was the look of someone who had had the entire world thrown onto her shoulders.

Niylah did not know the names of all who had done this to her Klark, but Niylah knew that if she wanted to change the pain that Klark held into happiness and security, then Klark would need a home. A place to live and feel safe and happy in. A family. Maybe they would find that in this 'South America,' where the Ark people would land. But Niylah knew from experience, because she had been to the Shallow Valley Peoples' territory that Klark could find that easily in that tribe.

The Luwoda weren't like any other tribe in the world. The Tri, the Ingranrona, the Boudalan, the Trishana, the Poda, the San, the Azgeda, the Yujleda, the Ouskejon, even the Flou, they all had something very strong in common with each other. They were militaristic before anything else. Even the Floukru, being peaceful was a new addition to the tribe. It hadn't been peaceful before Luna had become the leader of the Ocean tribe.

But the Luwoda, while possessing a strong, powerful, deadly army, deadlier some would say than even the Azgeda, were different from many of the tribes. Why was this? Because the Luwoda were even more tribe like than the other tribes. They were close knit. They treated everyone in their tribe and anyone who joined their tribe like family. Any who threatened that family were killed painfully. They treated outsiders with nothing but kindness, unlike smaller villages within other tribes and when someone wanted to join them, they would immediately adopt that person or people into their tribe and treat them like their own.

If there was a tribe that would welcome Klark and her people as soon as Klark and her people landed, it would be the Shallow Valley people.

Their odd kingdom aside-the strange castle and the very strange kingdom that the Luwoda lived in as their central fortress and brought everyone to in order to worship the gods there. All of the Grounders saw Polis as their capital, but the Luwoda's home was their temple, their home and their beloved nest. There were many places in the kingdom of the Luwoda where the tribe could have their houses and weapons. The place where the Luwoda lived wasn't like anywhere else that Niylah knew of. She had heard that one other tribe had a place similar. Close to the other side of the country, opposite of the Trikru territory. But Niylah had never seen it.

Niylah thought about the Luwoda and how quickly they would accept people as their own and decided she would speak to Klark when the reached shore. She would tell Klark that the Luwoda could be trusted. And that the Luwoda could be their new family if they would give the tribe a chance.

But Niylah would wait till they reached the shore. Telling Klark when they were on moving boats was not a wise move. An issue this important and big needed to wait till they were on more stable places to stand.

So Niylah settled for small talk with the Sky people, learning what she could about the Ark and the Ark politics. All of them, Niylah found were very inhuman politics. It seemed that when a second child was born on the Ark, the child was thrown into prison and the nomon and the nontu were "floated," which meant executed. And the child, when it was full grown was killed too.

The only reason why all of the 100 were here now was because they were "test subjects" to see if the ground was livable. But they had all been prisoners. Niylah narrowed her eyes when she learned this. She had a hard time imagining Klark as a criminal. But she knew that Klark was capable of much strength and danger. She HAD been Wanheda in the other timeline. She had ended all the Mountain Men, including the children and even the babies. Niylah wasn't naïve. She knew that the Mountain Men must have had families within the walls of their lair. Families meant children. Babies even.

Niylah could accept that. It was a painful thing. But it was often what happened when one culture threatened another. It had happened to many villages who had been at war with each other before the Coalition. It was terrible and sad, but Niylah and all of her people had accepted that that was the way things were. Niylah knew that the Mountain Men's children were not to blame for the crimes against the tribes, but it was inevitable that the children or babies would get caught in the crossfire of war.

So Niylah knew that the Mountain Men children and babies dying while on Klark's hands, could hardly be used as condemnation against Klark. For they had been casualties that Klark had been forced to sacrifice so that her people were safe. It was grim, but that was all there was to it. Then there were the three hundred Trikru warriors that Klark had burned alive when her people and the Trikru were at war.

But before being forced to commit these actions, all to keep her people safe? Niylah knew nothing about Klark's past. It could have been that Klark had committed a crime of some kind. Had Klark done as Foks, Hapah and Monti claimed, she could hardly judge. She did not know what life was like on the Ark. So she knew that what Klark did on the Ark was most likely done because she had to, like everything else Klark did.

She asked Monti who was facing her what Klark's crime was. Monti shrugged. "I don't know. Since Clarke is the daughter of one of the most powerful medics, Abby Griffin and of the top mechanic, Jake Griffin, and Jake Griffin was floated for treason, I guess Clarke's crime was treason."

Niylah's fingers paused before they touched the food to her lips. Klark's father had been executed. And Klark was a traitor? That was a very strange thought to put together with Klark. Klark didn't seem capable of treason. She was too loyal to her people. Niylah's heart hurt, hearing what Monti told her. Klark's father had been killed. Even if he had committed treason, like Monti said, he was still Klark's father.

She looked at Klark's back again. Klark's father had been taken away from her. Klark had suffered the death of her father. Niylah closed her eyes, thinking about her mother. She would never wish that loss on anyone. She didn't know anything about Klark's father. But if Klark had gone through that pain, that loss, then Niylah couldn't even imagine what Klark had to live with while holding the burden of being a leader to her people.

Niylah opened her eyes and watched Klark who was leaning her head down and devouring her food off the slab of bark. Klark deserved so much more than what she got. She had been betrayed, hurt, cast out, and eventually killed. And Klark's reaction back on the ground made Niylah feel like more had happened, like Klark had been abused in some way. Had her people been responsible?

Niylah wondered how anyone could treat Klark in the way that Klark was acting like she had been treated. Who had done it and why? Again, Niylah was curious if anyone present were responsible, but she knew she would need to ask later. She would kill any who harmed her Klark, physically or otherwise. But only with Klark's permission. Niylah knew that she knew little about Klark. She wanted to know more. She wanted to learn as much as she could.

Niylah wondered how she knew she could love Klark as deeply as she did, when she knew almost nothing about the younger. But she knew. Somehow she just knew. The realization had come in the other timeline. And it had come as a shock. But she had accepted it, realizing it made her feel warmer than anything ever had. She loved Klark. She wanted the younger woman to be happy. To be safe. To FEEL loved. Niylah still intended that. For Klark to never feel lonely or unhappy ever again.

Anything that Klark had suffered before, Niylah had no intention of ever allowing her to experience ever again.

Niylah remembered the love between her father and her mother. While unions were usually not for love amongst their people, Niylah knew that her nomon and her nontu loved each other.

And she knew how devastated her father had been after her mother had been taken by the Mountain Men.

Cold seeped down her body. She would not allow anything to happen to Klark. And she would not suffer the same pain her father had suffered. She would protect Klark, at all costs.

Almost four more hours had past when they started getting closer to the land that they desired. They had been going to the bathroom over the boats' edges. The boys would be undoing their pants and peeing into the ocean. Monroe would pass over jars for the girls to squat down and dow their business. They'd then dump the jar's contents into the water. Thankfully no one yet needed to do number 2.

Niylah had called across to the boat in front of her that they were getting close to the Luwoda's territory and that this was where they needed to land. The sky was almost black when they got close to the land. The sea was so dark. Clarke, at the head of the first boat was looking up at the black sky, watching the many white, glistening stars against the sky. Clarke lowered her head after noticing the bright light that was brighter and bigger than the other stars in the sky, realizing that that was the Ark. Alright. It was still there in the sky. So nothing had crashed yet.

But Clarke knew that she didn't need to worry about that until a month from now. The Ark hadn't come crashing down until a month later after she and the other 100 had come crashing down.

She looked ahead, seeing the dark ahead and the black water below the boats. The moon above made sure that they could see the slab of land up ahead and alongside them, so there was no risk of them crashing. It helped that there appeared to be a wooden harbor on the part of the shore where they were supposed to land, with torches that had flames waving back and forth at the top of them. These torches all were slid into metal pedestals attached to metal posts in the ground on each side of the harbor.

Clarke pushed the oar into the water back and forth. The boats moved closer and closer to the shore. As they did, Clarke was noticing more details about the shore. There were many, many trees that surrounded the wooden bay. All these trees were very unlike the ones in the Trikru territory. These trees were hanging, leaning, like the "spines" were bent. The limbs all had thin, stringy, net-like, green masses hanging from them. As the fires from the torches flickered, Clarke realized that the hanging globules must have been moss of some kind. She saw more of them smeared along the trunks of the trees.

Clarke remembered what Niylah had said about the Luwoda's land. There were alligators and snakes there. Clarke looked back over her shoulder into the boat, seeing the black outline of where Jasper sat.

"Jasper," She called to the boy, "Get ready. Remember, this place is rough and full of ruthless people. So don't get too freaked out. Stay close to us and you'll be safe."

Jasper pulled his head back, looking startled. "Huh?" He asked. "Why should I worry?" Clarke turned and stared at him as he got up, flexing his skinny arms. "I' can take care of myself." He had a big, proud, goofy smile on his face. Clarke sighed, rolling her eyes and turned to look at the approaching wooden docks. Jasper hadn't yet gotten hit with the spear. He hadn't yet been traumatized. He didn't yet know how dangerous this world was.

The boat floated along and Clarke rowed till the boat reached the shore. When the boat hit the shoreline, Clarke hopped out and onto the ground, pulling the staff out of the water and letting it drip water along the mossy floor. Wells, Jasper, Finn and Monroe all jumped out. The next few boats came along and the others jumped out.

The motors were turned off and Niylah, Fox, Harper, Monty, Pascal and Trina jumped out of the boats. Niylah tied the boats around the wooden leg of the docks, holding the boats there.

Niylah said to Klark, "We need to get everything we need from the boats. Anything else will just be extra things to carry."

Clarke nodded. Niylah had a point. "Right." She said. "Everyone grab what you want or need to take. But leave everything else here!" She announced to the others.

Everyone quickly did as they were told and Clarke was relieved. They seemed to finally be adapting to the fact that she was their leader. Clarke didn't care if everyone on the Ark saw her as leader or not. She in fact hoped that she could get to fucking rest finally and not have to be in control all the time. Her people were idiots so she doubted it. But it would be nice. But for now, she could accept that these people were listening to only her.

Maps, food, bags full of furs, metal, weapons, compasses, matches and everything else. All that was left were the pieces of wood used as plates and the small utensils like forks and some no longer full sacks that had carried food before.

They now were walking away from the boat and Clarke nodded to the torches that lit up the dock.

"Shouldn't we have something to give us light?" She looked at Wells and Pascal who were carrying some of the things. "Don't you guys have the flashlights?"

Pascal and Wells both looked surprised, they then pulled off their backpacks and pulled out the flashlights eventually. Clarke opened up her hand, the one that wasn't holding the radio and Wells handed her the flashlight. He had one in his hands too. He handed another to Monroe who took it and turned it on. More flashlights were handed out. Pascal, Trina, Monty, Jasper, Fox, Harper and Niylah all had lights soon.

Monroe showed Niylah how to use the flashlight. Clarke smirked as she turned on the flashlight, watching Monroe tell Niylah not to shine the light in her own eyes. So the many first steps were over with. Get away from Bellamy, Octavia and the others, get away from Trikru territory and find the Luwoda land.

That had all been done. Now they had to get to the Luwoda tribe and try to get them big boats and take them to South America.

Clarke, with a turned on flashlight in hand, looked down at the radio in her other hand, Niylah and Monroe coming up to her left side and Wells and Finn coming to her right side.

She felt all of them watching her as she moved ahead. The others behind her she supposed she shouldn't be surprised by. The others saw her as the leader now luckily, so they were looking to her.

But Wells was being a protective big brother. Finn, she knew was watching her for a very different reason. Monroe and Niylah? They probably were watching for that same reason. Clarke sighed as she moved across the swampy, fern and moss covered ground, booted feet trying to avoid puddles and small parts of earth that were sunken, beam of her flashlight bouncing across the ground. She kept her loaded gun close, its weight reassuring to her. She made sure that the safety was on, but she would be ready at any moment to take the safety off. This would be a long trip.


	12. Let the good times roll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usual warnings. Trauma. Mentions of abuse and betrayal and genocide.

Did they only have flashlights the self-made torches that Niylah had made from sticks and leather tied together and set ablaze? Yes. But was it providing enough light for now? Yes.

So Clarke wasn't going to complain. There were a million things to complain about. The lack of real light wasn't one of them. The twelve of them walked along the soggy, mossy shore. Clarke occasionally glanced at Niylah, to make sure that Niylah was still walking confidently and not hesitating. So Niylah was sure of where they were going. That was good to know, because Clarke definitely had no fucking idea where they were going.

Every now and then they'd get irritating chatter from the peanut gallery. Jasper would ask if they were sure they knew where they were going. Monty would make some comment about how cool it would be if they could look at the plants around here. Trina kept trying to get a good read on the stars overhead, but they had to keep moving. Clarke reminded them that if they stayed back and tried to look at the plants or stars or whatever, they would be left behind.

That threat kept people moving.

Clarke smirked when she realized that. So the threat of abandonment worked, no matter what age a moronic toddler was.

That was fun to fucking know.

She definitely was going to have fun with Jasper when it came to that. Clarke had formed a few rather sadistic fantasies about everyone who had ever hurt her. About her mother. About Kane. About Bellamy. About Miller. About Murphy. About Charlotte. About Lexa. About Anya. About Octavia. About Jasper.

Since Jasper was the only one of those traitors here, she supposed she couldn't be that picky, could she?

Jasper would be her plaything then. She tossed that thought around her brain and she discovered that she was not repulsed by her own sadistic thoughts. No. She wanted to fuck with Jasper. Wanted to torment him. The way he had tormented her.

She still remembered his words, words cutting through her like a knife every time she had tried to help him. "Right now, the biggest danger is you."How dare he? Clarke had never really thought that highly of herself and always tried to avoid feeling like she was more important than everyone else, but how fucking dare Jasper? She had done everything she could, everything to make sure that her people were safe, including Jasper. And he had thrown it back in her face. She looked over her shoulder at where the boy walked along, looking at everything with a face full of awe and curiosity as he looked at the many moist plants sticking out of the ground, lit up by one flashlight beam or another.

That piece of shit hadn't just disobeyed her, hadn't just been ungrateful, he had been completely selfish. He had been fine living it up in the mountain, safe while Raven, Finn and the rest of their people were out there, fighting for their lives. And he didn't even hold open the possibility that the people he was with might be a danger to them. He seemed absolutely fine with doing nothing and not even trying to find out if the Mountain Men were a danger or not.

He was worthless. Clarke shivered as she realized the direction of where her thoughts were going. It was disturbing. She was actually sure that the word that defined what she was thinking about might be called "evil." To think that someone, an actual human being was "worthless" had to count as evil, right? But she couldn't see how she was wrong.

Bellamy, Murphy, Octavia, Charlotte, Miller, Jasper, all of them had been willing to sacrifice others, leave others to die, even their own people and ignore obvious dangers just for their comfort. For their immediate gratifications.

What else did you call someone like that, except worthless?

Clarke turned away from Jasper, thinking about the troubling direction her thoughts were taking.

She knew she was evil. Or the closest to real evil that might exist. She knew that. But if she had to be evil to make sure that the people of the Ark survived, wasn't it worth it? If she had to be evil so that she finally got a moment of fucking peace, wasn't it worth it?

She thought about Jasper again. He was the only real weak link here now. Everyone else she had left behind. And hopefully they had been killed in some way or other. And she'd have to wait till Abby and Kane came down to have her fun with them.

So the question became, what did she do about Jasper? They needed Monty. He was too skilled at machinery not to be needed. So she couldn't just outright kill Jasper. That would make her lose Monty's loyalty in seconds.

And she couldn't risk that. So if Jasper was going to die, she would have to make it look like she had had nothing to do with it. An accident, maybe? Trick him into eating something poisonous while no one else was looking? She decided to not think about it too much right now.

It would just hurt her head to think that much on the subject.

She drifted close to Niylah as they walked. "I hope you know where we're going." She said, even though she was sure that the Grounder did in fact know where they were going.

Niylah smiled that warm, reassuring smile that always softened Clarke. The Grounder nodded. "Yes, I do. Don't fear, Klark. We will find the Luwoda people soon."

Clarke snorted. She almost snapped, "I'm not scared of anything," but she stopped herself, knowing that Niylah would be able to see through the bravado. Niylah had always known what she needed. And she wouldn't be fooled by any proud claims on Clarke's part.

So instead, Clarke just nodded and grumbled, "Right," still moving.

She knew there wasn't much she could do now, except to walk along. Everyone had the belongings they'd need as they walked behind Niylah and Clarke. Clarke turned to Niylah and whispered, "When do you think we should stop and rest for the night?" She knew that they should continue to walk, but Niylah was more familiar with the territory than she was. Which meant that Niylah would know which part of this land was ideal for a resting stop. As experience had taught Clarke, sleeping in the wrong spot on Earth earned a person potential danger that consisted of either Grounders attacking, Mountain Men attacking, the Pauna or other animals attacking, or nature itself attacking.

Knowing exactly where to sleep on the ground here on Earth was no small task.

Niylah smiled at Clarke and shook her head. "It's best not to rest here. We should keep walking till we get to higher and more solid ground. There are buildings that are unoccupied that would be good for us to rest in. Sleeping outside would risk leaving us open to bugs, snakes and the armored ones."

Clarke nodded. She didn't need to ask more to guess that the "armored ones" were alligators and crocodiles. Being open to bugs, not so fun. Being open to snakes, amongst them, most likely many venomous snakes and boa constrictions was a much less reassuring thought. Being open to alligators and crocodiles? That was automatically deadly.

So she would do as Niylah said, for now.

"Thanks." Clarke said to Niylah. "I mean that. Thank you for all the help."

Niylah's smile never left her face. "You have no need to thank me, Klark." She said. "I'm doing this happily, as I said." She turned her dark eyes to Clarke, unflinching. Clarke watched Niylah in the dark and the words that Niylah said rattled Clarke to her core. "Ai hodness."

Clarke tried not to shiver. She knew what "Ai hodness" meant. It meant "my love" in Trigedasleng.

She could still remember the moments that stayed in her mind like painful tumors lodged there, memories of Lexa and Anya telling Clarke those same things, giving her those same words of adoration.

And that had been not long before their abandonment of her at Mount Weather.

Clarke said quietly, "I'm flattered, Niylah, I am, but-"

Niylah interrupted her, still smiling, "There's no need to respond. You don't need to feel the same way. I won't ask you to. Even if you never come to love me as I might wish, the only thing that I want is to be able to provide you with the aide and the love and care that you deserve and need."

Clarke felt a lump in her throat. Her skin felt cold for some reason. Why was it that when she had finally given up on love and trust that that was when not one, but two people had decided to show her how devoted they were to her? Both Niylah and Monroe were wildcards. She wanted to trust them and she wanted to have the chance to love again. But she had learned the hard way that the need for love had too high a cost.

She just gave a small nod to Niylah, trying not to look too much into it when she heard Niylah chuckle at Clarke's reaction. It didn't help that Clarke could feel herself being watched. Eyes were burning into her back and she knew it. It could be Wells, but she doubted it. Wells was onboard, no matter what. Finn and Monroe were the more likely candidates who were drilling holes into her back.

Taking a chance, Clarke glanced over her left shoulder, using the light from the flashlights the others were holding and the aflame torches in the occasional metal post they passed by to see who was looking at her. Finn was looking at some path or another, right next to Harper and Fox. To the left of Fox and between Fox and Wells, was Monroe. She was the one staring at Clarke, not Finn.

When Monroe saw that Clarke caught her looking, she didn't look away. Monroe just smiled at Clarke. Clarke strangely found a resemblance between Monroe's smile and Niylah's smile. It was a kind of smile that was assured and offered comfort. It was the kind of smile that said, "It's okay. You'll be okay, Clarke. We'll make sure of it."

It was a kind of smile that soothed Clarke, but wished that it didn't. It was the kind of smile she felt like she should be scared of.

She turned away from Monroe and tried to focus on the mossy path she was walking on. Those smiles she had been given from Niylah and Monroe were the type of smiles that told her that not only would she be protected and looked after, she would be hunted.

They wanted to protect her, or so they claimed. But they also were in pursuit of her, weren't they?

It was unnerving. She didn't want to believe that they'd hurt her. But then, she hadn't wanted to believe that a lot of people would hurt her before, and they had hurt her anyhow, hadn't they?

So what were the chances that this time not one but two people could be equally trusted? What were the chances?

Still, Clarke knew that she couldn't say or do anything about it right now. Now wasn't the time and here wasn't the place. She kept a tight hand around her rifle and her other around the handle of the flashlight and kept moving.

She wasn't alone with either Monroe or Niylah, or both of them. There were other people with them. Useless as Jasper was, Wells, Harper, Fox and Monty and Finn definitely wouldn't do nothing if Niylah or Monroe tried to assault her in any way. And she suspected that Trina and Pascal wouldn't either, even if she didn't know them at all.

Clarke thought about it. Would Niylah or Monroe really do anything like that? Niylah could overpower her easily, she had proven that the very first time she and Clarke had had sex. It had both frightened Clarke and had excited her. To be really dominated like that.

Some part of her yearned for it again. But she wanted it to be her choice. She had had enough of people taking the choice out of her hands and deciding what she was supposed to be.

If anyone decided what she was or what she was going to do, she was. No one else.

Clarke decided to distract her thoughts from whatever exactly was going on with Niylah and Monroe as she leaned into the Grounder and asked Niylah, "So what exactly is the Luwoda's kingdom like exactly?"

Niylah tilted her head as she seemed to be pondering Clarke's question. "How should I describe it?" She asked quietly. "Allow me to think a moment." She was silent for a few seconds and answered, "I don't think it's like anywhere else I've seen. I have not been to many places outside of the lands of the tribes. I've been to a few islands, looking for plants for healing and other pieces of tek to sell. But I've never seen anything like the Luwoda's kingdom.

"There is a very large castle at the front of their land." Niylah continued. "It's covered in ivy and moss, but the spires and gate stick out and is as magnificent as the rest of their land. There are other buildings after the castle. Many buildings that are grand and colorful. This is where it gets very strange and unique." Niylah smiled again at Clarke and this time Clarke could tell, even in the dark and with the limited light they had, that it was meant to be a conspiratorial smile. "All of these buildings have some sort of contraption in them. Tracks with seats on the tracks. One seat after another, all designed strangely. Many of these buildings have contraptions in them with statues and designs attached and if you touch the contraptions, the designs will move. And there are other contraptions that send images out into the buildings. There are all sorts of statues around the buildings too. All chipping and moldy, but colorful. One is of a large white creature-I think a duck, with a blue shirt on and a blue hat on. How odd is that?"

Clarke stopped in her steps and as soon as she did, everyone else stopped as well.

Niylah halted in front of Clarke, looking at her in surprise. Clarke heard Monroe, Wells and the others stop behind her, their footsteps not giving off any noise now.

Clarke stared at Niylah as she put together the Grounder's description of where they were headed. Statues. One of those statues a white duck with a blue shirt and a blue hat on. Buildings with contraptions inside. These contraptions had seats that were on tracks. In other words, the "contraptions" inside these buildings were rides. Theme park rides. And the designs that could be moved were obviously part of the theme of the ride. Like a character or an animal from the movie that the ride was supposed to be a part of. And the castle, right at the front of this park? What else castle could it be? What else park could they be approaching? For fuck's sake, they were in Florida.

Clarke felt the hysterical laughter begin to start up inside her again and felt her mouth start to stretch in a grin. No. No way they were going there. That was just too damn rich.

The laughter started flying from Clarke again and she threw her head back and cackled almost devilishly. She knew she was being stared at in unease and even fear right now. But she didn't care. This was just too fucking rich. After all that last time in the other timeline, after all the shit she had been willing to go through for her people and then had had slapped in her face almost sadistically and after finally realizing that she had to look out for herself and take what she wanted, when she wanted it, this was the outcome? Not only did she have Wells back, and might just have more people than she was used to listening to her, plus Monroe and Niylah's possible devotion to her, but she was going to one of the most famous places on Earth that was talked about by children all over the Ark who were so privileged that their biggest concern wasn't where their food was coming from?

They were going to fucking Disney World?

Was that possible?

When Clarke's laughter finally came under control and her body had slowly stopped to shake with her peels of cackling, she slowly looked around at her allies and gave them a grin she knew they'd find creepy, but didn't care. At Finn stepping back at her look and Trina grabbing Pascal's right arm and Jasper gulping and hiding behind Monty, Clarke felt a dark chuckle leaving her. "You guys don't get the joke, do you?" She asked. She turned to Niylah, who had a troubled look on her face, obviously not understanding Clarke's almost explosive mirth. "Describe to them where we're going, if you don't mind. Describe it to them exactly how you described it to me."

Niylah watched Clarke, curious, but then turned to the rest of the group and did as Clarke instructed.

After Niylah's description of where they were going was done, Clarke watched the reactions of every one of the others in their group. She saw the realization cross all five Monroe, Wells, Finn, Monty and Trina's faces.

"We're going there?" Trina asked hopefully. She then looked awkward and added, "I know it'll be really different after all the bombs and the radiation, but I've always wanted to see it. Even if it's in ruins."

Jasper looked back and forth from Monty and Wells and Monroe, to Clarke and then Trina. "Sorry, am I missing something?" He asked, frowning. "Where are we going?"

Clarke thankfully didn't snort at Jasper's stupidity. She smirked. Go figure that Jasper had no idea what Niylah was talking about. It wasn't that Jasper was any less privileged than Monty. It wasn't. Monty, from what she had learned had basically adopted Jasper when he had been young and he and his mom had been Jasper's guardians since the boy had been little and had lost his parents after they had been floated by the chancellor before Thelonius Jaha. Which meant that Jasper had had a support system and had had a type of security for a while before being brought to Earth.

No, it wasn't that Jasper hadn't been privileged enough to know. It was just that Jasper was stupid.

Clarke felt a strong and probably nasty amount of arrogance, realizing that. It sure figured that Jasper was too stupid to know that. He probably didn't even know what a theme park was. Would be too busy jerking off to women in magazines and thinking about what Monty could do for him when it came to getting new drugs to think outside of his narrow world.

Clarke tried to keep her disgusted thoughts about Jasper under control. She needed to be calm. As much as some part of her wanted to beat Jasper with the butt of her gun, the same way she had done to Octavia, she knew she couldn't. They weren't alone right now. If she attacked Jasper in the open and with Monty seeing them, there would be consequences.

"Isn't it obvious, Jasper?" Clarke asked, forcing her voice to sound amused, rather than spiteful. Jasper turned to her, looking dubious. Clarke felt her smirk widen at Jasper's stupidity, but knew she couldn't be vocal about how stupid she found him to be. "Jasper, the tribe of the Luwoda is located in Disney World. Fucking Disney World!"

She watched as comprehension showed up on Jasper, Harper, Fox and Pascal's faces.

"Holy shit." Pascal said, and he let out a small laugh, looking like someone had just told him that Christmas had come early and that they were still safe on the Ark and weren't prisoners anymore.

"Holy shit is right." Clarke agreed, nodding to him.

"Oh, wow!" Jasper said, a big grin on his face now. "That…that's awesome! Are we going to get to go on the rides?"

Clarke almost face-palmed. Almost. Yes, that was what Jasper instantly thought of. She supposed it was unavoidable. You thought of Disney World and what did you instantly think of? The costumes and the rides. So she supposed she couldn't really blame him there. She could blame him for many other things, just not that.

"Jasper," Monroe said, turning to the goggle-headed boy, shaking her head, "The rides probably won't be working. Remember, the bombs hit a lot. The rides were probably badly damaged by the bombs."

Jasper frowned, dismayed for only a second, before a new grin was on his face as he seemed to think of something new, "Then does that mean we can go into the rides instead? I mean, if the rides aren't working anymore, then maybe we can just walk into the rides and walk around the designs in the rides."

Monty looked at Jasper like Jasper had just said the dumbest thing in the world, but Clarke was surprised to feel like Jasper's suggestion was actually brilliant. For the first time, Jasper might actually have had something there. Yes, the rides were most likely too damaged beyond repair to allow them to see all the rides they'd want to see. So they couldn't use any of the machines in the rides. But could they potentially go into the buildings where the rides were? Meaning could they walk right into the rides and look around at all the animatronics and the exhibits meant to entertain the tourists that had frequented the rides before the bombs and radiation had come.

Clarke thought of Jasper's suggestion as odd, but intriguing. "You know, Jasper," Clarke said finally, actually smiling at the little dumbass, "I think you actually might have something here."

Jasper beamed, and as much as Clarke wanted to slap that look off his face, she knew he probably had the right to look that way. He was far from smart. Not when it came to common sense, he sure wasn't. And when it came to mechanics, next to Monty, Jasper's knowledge was insignificant. In fact, it was nonexistent. But sometimes stupidity could give way to ingenuity.

Niylah spoke then. "I'm sorry," She said, coming to stand next to Clarke's side, "I don't understand. What is this 'Disney World' you keep talking about? And what 'rides?'"

Clarke tried not to laugh at Niylah's unfamiliarity with the old world. "It's what the kingdom you're taking us to used to be called." She answered the Grounder. "Is it called something different now?"

Niylah tiled her head again, narrowing her eyes, looking troubled by this new information. "I'm not sure I understand. The tribe I'm taking you to are in a fortress they call "'Ney-Wor.' I don't know of any other place you could be talking about."

Clarke felt another smirk cross her face. So it was Disney World. Maybe the "Dis" and "LD" had been damaged, smudged or cut off on any signage that existed over the years.

"Never mind, Niylah," Clarke said, smiling now. "Lead the way. I think we're in for more of an adventure than I originally thought."

Clarke could see Niylah trying to comprehend what she had heard, but saw the braided Grounder turn and begin to walk now, looking confused still.

Clarke smiled as she followed along, hearing the footsteps following her. Now there was gossiping. Excited gossiping. Clarke smirked again. She was aggravated with them at times, but she couldn't help but feel an amount of not necessarily happiness, but satisfaction at hearing all the excitement behind her.

For once, these idiots were listening to her, and she was the one giving them the immediate gratification they wanted so badly.

If you gave a bunch of dumb oxen food instantly, as soon as they listened to you, it looked like they'd happily follow you into a volcano. That was fine with her. There were only five of them that she actually needed.

Niylah was her guide and knew how to trade and heal where Clarke might fail. Monroe was skilled, surprisingly skilled and actually seemingly loyal, like Niylah seemingly was. Wells was loyal, was skilled in technology and was Jaha's son. He was a good use of leverage and influence on the Ark, when the Ark came down. Finn was leverage to use to bring Raven down to Earth. Raven was the one they really needed, not Finn. But Finn was Raven's boyfriend and only family and even though Clarke understood how ruthless it was, she would use him as need be to lure Raven down to this part of Earth and not in the Trikru's land.

And Monty was good with technology too. Jasper was more of an appendage on him than a real person. Jasper had proven enough that that was all he was. A sack of self-indulgence and that was all. But if keeping him around kept Monty loyal, then that was all Clarke cared about.

Everyone else, on the other hand? Well, life sucked, didn't it?

Back on the Ark, Abby Griffin and Callie Cartwig were speaking harshly to Jackson and Kane.

"Happy now, Kane?" Callie demanded, glaring at the man that had used to be her boyfriend before she had become sick of him and his grasping for power. It was a derogatory thought, but there were times when Callie couldn't recognize Kane as a human being. How could she, when he was willing to throw a hundred children down to the ground, just to use them as guinea pigs? Among those children were two teenagers that Callie had come to see as her own children. She had never said that to either Abby or to Thelonius Jaha. She had never even said that to Jake Griffin when he had been alive, but she was almost sure that Jake had known, but had said nothing.

Wells Jaha and Clarke Griffin. Callie loved those kids. She loved them so much. Seeing the monitors of Clarke and Wells both without any deadly red Xs on them or any warning red marks telling them that their health was threatened. Both Clarke and Wells were alive. Or as Clarke had revealed on the radio when she had told them that some violent thug who was turning the prisoners against them, the man who as Callie, Kane, Jackson and Abby had learned, had been the one to shoot Thelonius Jaha in the first place and had impersonated a guard, Bellamy Blake, and his little gang were the ones taking the wristbands off.

Thankfully, it looked like Clarke and Wells both had escaped before that scumbag had gotten ahold of either of them and had gotten their wristbands.

Callie's chest hurt, thinking about either her Wells or her Clarke being harmed in any way by that thing. By that thug and his group. Callie had seethed when Clarke had told them over the radio why those wristbands had been taken.

Callie had never been fond of the Ark's so-called "justice system," but what these people were doing, what this thug, Bellamy was doing, was getting the people killed. Getting not one, but millions of people killed. All for one power hungry man's desire.

It made Callie sick. How had this man slipped through their fingers for so long? She didn't know. But she refused to let that thing get away.

She spat coldly at Kane, "Clarke and Wells are going off on their own and going God knows where. They say they're going to South America, but you have any idea how long that's going to take them? Does this please you, Kane? Two children we helped raise and came to be family members being in danger? Does this make you happy?" The hard flint in Callie's voice would have made anyone else flinch. Kane, however, didn't twitch even a little. He just smiled and answered soothingly.

"Callie, you know I care about what happens to Clarke and Wells," Kane answered, smile not moving. "I know that this is hard. I hate them being alone on Earth too. But be proud. They're saving us. They are helping us come down to Earth. We should do as they suggest. South America. They've already saved us, Callie."

Callie scoffed, disgusted with Kane's narcissistic reasoning. He would excuse mass murder if it meant that at the end of it he'd get a crown on his head. "Yes," Callie sneered. "I guess you would be proud of the people that ensure your kingdom gets to safety."

Kane frowned. "My kingdom?" He asked.

"You know," Callie sneered again, "Now that Jaha's on his deathbed, it's time for you to move in. You'll get the votes you want. But guess what, Marcus," She stared hatefully at the man that had become such a stranger to her over the years, "neither Abby, nor I will let you become chancellor. We'll run for chancellor before you can get your greedy hands on the nominations."

She turned to Abby and could see the surprise that Jake's widow was giving her. Callie nodded to Abby and Abby slowly turned to stare at Kane challengingly.

"That's right," Abby said, glaring at Kane, "We're not allowing you to be the chancellor."

Abby then turned to Jackson. "Give a report out for everyone who'll listen to the news." Abby said. "Tell everyone over the speakers that Callie and I will be running as candidates for chancellor." She turned darkly to Kane, glaring, "Against Marcus Kane."

This time, Kane looked startled. No, he looked astounded. His mouth dropped and he looked like he wanted to move away from both intimidating women.

He stared at the two women as if they had just told him that they were actually going to stick two knives into his back.

"Really, Callie? Abby?" Kane asked, breath huffing out of his mouth. "You know that we have to do what's needed for humanity."

"But our people aren't the last humans around, are they?" Callie asked, smirking. "Clarke says that there are other people on the ground besides the 100, and I believe her. That means that what we do doesn't decide the fate of humanity by default. It means that your power grabs and your desperation to frighten the masses into voting for you so that you can call the shots won't work. You can dress it up all you want that you're doing all this for the sake of the people, but the truth is, you're just doing all this for you. You only want the people to vote for you so that you can feel big and special. That's the only reason why."

Kane looked like Callie had hit him. Abby turned to Jackson. "Make the announcement." She ordered.

Jackson nodded and turned to the controls, grabbing the radio head and speaking into it and making it known to everyone on the Ark that there would be voting for three candidates. Marcus Kane, Abby Griffin and Callie Cartwig.

When Jackson was finished with the announcement, he placed the radio head down and turned it off. He turned around and faced the others, waiting and Callie got the feeling that he was waiting for some sort of fight. They were already having a verbal confrontation, so Callie could only assume that Jackson was waiting for someone to throw a punch.

Callie said darkly, "We're not the last humans. There are others. So you don't get to take advantage of the chaos. And Abby and I will run for chancellor. Either of us will be in control of the Ark. And we'll bring it down to South America. We'll try to keep in contact with Clarke. But you won't be speaking on anyone's behalf."

Kane stared at her as Callie waved him away, turning to stare at the monitors that had Wells and Clarke's health stats. She felt Kane stare at her. Stare and stare until he finally walked away, out of the room. When she heard the doors close, she analyzed the picture of the two teenagers that she had come to love so deeply.

Wells's face and Clarke's face looked both so innocent and faultless. Yet the voice that she had heard on the other end of the radio, when Clarke had spoken to them and had informed them of what was happening on Earth had been a voice filled with anger and almost repressed rage.

Bitterness. Resentment.

Those words did not sound compatible with everything Callie knew that Clarke was.

As far back as Callie had known Clarke, since the teenager had been a little girl, Clarke had never been bitter or resentful. So what was this new version of Clarke?

Then again, she also knew that Clarke had found out that Abby had been the one to reveal Jake to Thelonius Jaha. Which meant that Clarke had more than enough reason to be angry at her mother. To hate her even.

Callie understood that. But even then, she wasn't sure what could have sparked such rage in Clarke's tone. Had she just found out about her father and what Abby had done, right before speaking through the radio? Or was there more going on?

Callie knew that she shouldn't judge. She herself had been disgusted, so, so disgusted with both Kane and Abby as well as Thelonius Jaha when she had found out who had sold Jake Griffin out and had gotten him executed.

She was still so angry. So angry she was surprised she hadn't hit Abby yet or hadn't tried to shoot Kane. But she knew outright violence wouldn't help her. She had to be calm and smart. Use politics as her ally rather than use direct attacks.

She turned to Abby, fighting the bile in her mouth, looking at the woman who had gotten someone who Callie had admired for years killed. "Where on Earth do you think Clarke and Wells are now?" She asked the doctor.

Abby looked far too stricken to come up with anything too exact. "I don't know," She said weakly, either thinking on how suddenly now she had to focus on becoming chancellor to keep Kane out of power, or worrying about Wells and Clarke, or both, "I just know that I need to get to Clarke. I need to get to her fast. Even if it's to beg for her forgiveness."

Callie nodded. What she didn't say and was sure that Abby deserved to hear was, "Good luck with that. Have fun trying to get Clarke's forgiveness after killing her father and letting her best friend take the blame. Have fun with that." Somehow she had made sure she hadn't said that.

Callie turned to stare at the screens. If she got into power, she could protect Clarke and Wells both from their still living parents. Because hell knew they both needed and deserved it.

She grimaced. She was glad that there were more people on the Earth than the 100. She knew what she was thinking right now would be considered treason, but she wondered if these groups, these other human beings would allow outsiders to join them.

Because the Ark people were starting to sicken her.

Back on the ground, specifically in Florida, Clarke, Niylah, Wells and Monroe's group had come to a stop at a row of houses that as Niylah had pointed out, were abandoned and good for sleeping in.

The row of houses were on a fairly firm hillside, overlooking the forest. The path beyond it, Niylah said would lead to this kingdom eventually 'Ney-Wor.' Clarke asked Niylah how long it would take to get there. Niylah said it would take a few hours after they got up tomorrow at dawn.

As to be expected, this excited all four Jasper, Fox, Trina and Harper. They were practically jumping around like a bunch of five or six-year-olds being told that in the morning, they'd leave the hotel they were staying at and were going off to Disney World for a vacation, rather than looking for allies to give them boats to take them to another continent.

They had checked every inch of the two houses they were staying at and decided who should sleep in which house. In the light blue house they had found, Clarke had instructed Monty, Jasper, Pascal, Trina, Harper and Fox to stay there. In the green-white house right next to it, Finn, Monroe, Wells, Niylah and Clarke herself would be staying and sleeping. Clarke wanted to keep Finn and Jasper separated. They both had the same kind of energy, which meant she had no need of any possible stunts, if only to get peoples' attention. And she wanted to keep Finn under her watch.

After they had searched every space in both houses, checking to make sure there wasn't any unusually big bugs or spiders or snakes or even some alligators or crocodiles, they separated and Clarke gave Monty one of the radios so that they could stay in touch. Around what was more or less dinnertime, as Clarke saw the time on her watch, she said that they'd either need to break supplies out for food, or go hunting.

Since they all agreed they should keep their supplies safe, they went for the second option. Clarke had everyone come over to the house where she, Niylah and the others were staying. She had all eight Pascal, Trina, Fox, Harper, Monty, Jasper, Wells and Niylah stay at the house, while she, Monroe and Finn went out looking for food.

Wells and Niylah had both wanted to go with Clarke, but Niylah instantly respected Clarke's wishes and said that she would go looking for the three of them if they got lost and didn't come back in an hour. Clarke stared at those sad but knowing dark brown eyes and had just nodded, trying to ignore the guilt she felt for not trusting Niylah. Why did she get the feeling that Niylah knew that she didn't trust the Grounder?

Wells had been worried that they'd get lost, but Niylah assured him that they would go out searching for the other three if they didn't come back soon. Though Wells had looked nervous still, Niylah's reassurance seemed to have given him some confidence.

So Clarke, Monroe and Finn had gone off to go get food, armed with flashlights and guns and knives.

Clarke occasionally glanced over at the house where she, Finn and Monroe had left the others. Because electricity had basically been destroyed in this area, either by disaster over the years, or by radiation flare or by the bombs, or just by human meddling, they had resorted to using natural light, which was fire they created in the living area. Thankfully the green-white house had a fireplace, so the fire could be contained. Clarke made out the orange-yellow glow through the glass window of the ground floor of the house and hoped that Niylah kept that fire under control.

She turned back to Finn and Monroe and kept walking. Her flashlight beam caught a few footprints, smaller than a human's up ahead.

"Well, that looks interesting." Clarke said, smirking. Finn and Monroe both, who had been paying very close attention to Clarke, forcing her to fight rolling her eyes, turned their attention to where Clarke's flashlight beam was aimed.

Seeing the footprints, Finn marveled, "Hey, awesome! Good job, princess!"

Clarke's lower jaw tightened. She hated that nickname. Hated it.

"Dude," Monroe said, seeming to pick up Clarke's ire, "Don't fucking say that." She glared at Finn in the dark, "She doesn't like being called that."

Clarke glanced at Monroe, smiling, grateful. Monroe nodded back. Finn seemed startled at Monroe's protest, then looked at Clarke, looking miffed. "You really don't like that?" He asked.

Clarke nodded. "I'd prefer it if you just called me 'Clarke.'" She said. "Even 'Griffin' would be better. 'Princess' just sounds condescending."

"Oh," Finn said, seeming to flush, but Clarke couldn't really tell in the dark. "Sorry. I didn't mean it to be condescending."

"But it was." Clarke said dryly. "Just because you didn't mean it to be condescending doesn't mean it wasn't condescending."

"Right," Finn said and this time Clarke was sure he was flushing. "Sorry."

Clarke shrugged. "It's alright. No real harm done. Just don't do it again. Learn from the mistakes." Clarke fought down the urge to smirk and say, "After all, I have, which is why I've left everyone else to die." No, no. No need for Finn to know THAT part,now, was there?

Monroe turned to Finn and said, "Hey, Space Walker, could you go ahead of us and see if there's any danger?" Finn looked surprised, then turned to Clarke, who nodded to him.

Finn frowned, appearing dismayed, but then walked ahead of them, going near the trail of tracks and scouting them out, trying to figure out what made the tracks.

Monroe leaned closer to Clarke, whispering to her, "Why'd you need to bring this dumbass with us?"

Clarke snickered, "Well, do the math. Two people probably won't be enough to carry the amount of food we'll need for eleven people. Besides, I wanted to keep Finn away from the others for a while. I don't need Finn and Jasper talking and getting each other excited enough to do something stupid."

Monroe snorted. That was a good point. Finn and Jasper were probably bad influences to each other. In fact, Monroe remembered that that was the case in the previous timeline.

Probably also a good thing that Octavia had been left behind. She had been one bad influence. Like her brother, who had been the worst influence ever.

"You didn't want Niylah coming?" Monroe asked, thinking about what Niylah being with their group would mean. "Wouldn't she know the area better?"

Clarke nodded. "She would. But I'd feel more confident if she and Wells were watching the others." That was part of the reason, yes. But Clarke was lying about that being the only reason. Just like she was lying about not wanting Finn and Jasper to influence each other being the only reason. There was another reason for both her actions. She hadn't brought Niylah with them because Clarke was sure that she could overpower Monroe more easily than she could Niylah. Because she wasn't as afraid of Monroe was she was of Niylah. And she had had Finn with them, because if Monroe tried anything, Clarke knew that to get her attention, Finn would immediately interfere. And because Finn was just a decent man.

Clarke had her problems with Finn, but he was a good man. He had only become dangerous after his experiences with war and had been wrought with PTSD.

Clarke wanted to trust Monroe, but she couldn't. She had found that dilemma a lot lately, hadn't she? She wanted to trust so many people, but knew she couldn't. Because trust was more dangerous than love or friendship or money. Trust was fragile and easy to break. All it took for some people were the promise of coin or drink or comfort or shelter. And in other peoples' cases, power and or sex.

When Clarke thought about it, it was actually really funny to see how easily people broke their trust the moment they had something nice and juicy hang in front of their nose.

If that was the case, if that was all someone's trust was worth, a few gold coins or power, or sex or comfort or a shelter, then why the fuck shouldn't she do exactly what she wanted?

Let the good times fucking roll.

But first, Clarke needed to make preparations. And for that, she needed to feed her pawns. And she'd need to do it without the trouble of anyone that might try anything. Like Monroe. And that was why she had brought Finn with them.

Clarke decided to see where Monroe stood with all this, and what she thought of Niylah.

"Monroe," Clarke said, looking at the braided girl, keeping her voice low so that Finn didn't hear them. Monroe turned to her curiously. Clarke began, "I just gotta know, what do you think of Niylah? And what do you think we should do when we get to 'Ney-Wor?'" Clarke chuckled at the name, snickering.

Clarke noticed Monroe chuckle at the name, obviously finding the irony, if not the name amusing. Monroe answered simply, "I don't think that much of anything about Niylah. Just as long as she's loyal and doesn't try to hurt you, then I don't care. But if you want my opinion? I think she has a thing for you."

Clarke smirked again. "That's not just your opinion," Clarke said, observing Monroe's face in the limited light, "It's true. Niylah claims that she's in love with me." Clarke knew that she probably shouldn't have revealed something that personal about Niylah to Monroe. But there it was. Besides, Clarke was done with morals. What was the point of them, than to make people think that there was more to life than treachery and greed?

Besides, she wanted to see how Monroe reacted to that information.

She watched as Monroe's eyes widened, then saw Monroe narrow her eyes. "I see." She said. And just like that, Clarke had the confirmation of what she had been expecting.

Jealousy. Monroe was jealous of Niylah. Either for having feelings for Clarke too, or for having the courage to outright admit it. Or of both.

Clarke scowled, looking away. So both Niylah and Monroe were in love with her, or they thought they were in love with her.

Interesting. Still, she could use this. If they were in love with her as they said, or believed it as much as they did, then she could get them to do as she wished, hopefully.

And if she brought Monroe's feelings into the open, she might be able to figure out whether Monroe's intentions were dangerous for her or not.

"You look pissed." Clarke acknowledged.

"Yeah, yeah." Monroe said, looking away. She glared at the ground and said, "You're damn smart, Clarke. So I think you can take a guess why I'm pissed off."

Clarke carefully spoke the next words. She knew that this would be a big risk she was about to take. "Because you also love me?" She guessed, even if she wasn't actually guessing.

Monroe winced. She nodded. "Yeah." She mumbled. "I do. I love you." Monroe slowly turned and looked at Clarke. "Do…is that okay?"

Clarke snorted, "That you love me? That you're in love with me?" 'Or that you THINK that you're in love with me,' Clarke thought to herself, but said nothing. She shook her head. "Why would that be a problem? You know I've been in relationships with women before. Not just in the last timeline. But back on the Ark too."

And Clarke had been. She had been in a relationship with one boy, Tyler, and later one girl, named Tasha. She later dated another girl, a year and a half before she had been put in the skybox, named Dora. So even before she had met Finn or Lexa or Anya, and even before she had met Niylah and Monroe, she had had experience. She had known for a while that she was bisexual. So two women having a thing for her was far from shocking. No, the part that she didn't trust was that they claimed to be in love with her. She could believe attraction plenty. Just not the love part.

Monroe looked uncomfortable when she said, "I don't mean that part. I know that's not a problem for you. I mean, do you mind that I love you? Do you believe it?"

Monroe glanced at Clarke, a hopeful look on her face. Something about the hopefulness made Clarke's calm and witty answer stop in her throat. Something about the way Monroe was looking at her pleadingly made her feel like dirt suddenly. What if it was real? What if Monroe's feelings were actually real?

Clarke tried not to be too bothered by that. So what? So what if Monroe's feelings were real? People had known her feelings were real before, and they still had backstabbed her. Repeatedly. Who cared about other peoples' feelings, when obviously her feelings weren't worth a damn to them?

Clarke got her guilt under control and she answered, trying to stay calm and nodded. "Yes, Monroe. I believe you. But as you know, it's complicated with both you and Niylah."

Monroe nodded, looking away, then asking, "I don't suppose you'd be okay with being with both of us?"

Clarke almost choked on air of all things when she heard that. The fuck? She stared at Monroe. Wait, just fucking wait. Monroe loved her so much that she was willing to share her with someone else, if Clarke preferred Niylah?

"Shit," Clarke laughed, "I didn't know you were THAT kinky, Monroe."

She was able to laugh it off with an uncaring attitude, but Monroe hadn't noticed it. The braided girl answered, "It's not really about being kinky, Clarke. I guess you don't trust me telling you that I love you. So I guess that's why you're trying to act like it doesn't matter. It's not about kinky stuff. I love you. So if you don't want to choose between me and Niylah or anyone else, I don't mind. I just want to be with you." Monroe frowned then and shook her head. "You don't even need to actually be with me, okay? I don't want you to think that I'm trying to guilt you. Even if you don't want that kind of relationship with me, I'd like to stay with you and help you."

Clarke was at a loss for words now. She tried to think of some smartass remark, but couldn't.

Shit, had Monroe really seen through her act and figured out that this was all about distrust? Shit.

And after hearing that kind of passionate monologue, Clarke wasn't sure she could even think up a good lie. In only a couple of days she had heard not one but two passionate claims of love. Niylah too said that Clarke didn't have to do anything. Were they both truthful? Everything Monroe said seemed so sincere. What if it was true? Sure, Bellamy had thought up a good lie fast. So had her mother. So had Anya and Lexa. But this felt different.

Monroe seemed to truly mean it.

Clarke sighed, trying to think of the right thing to say. Alright. Maybe Monroe was telling the truth. Maybe she wasn't. But even if she wasn't, she sure as hell was putting up a good, convincing front. And so Clarke should give her own convincing front, shouldn't she?

Trying to ignore her many troubled thoughts, Clarke asked, "You wouldn't hate it too much if I had a relationship with Niylah? As well as with you? Or just treated you like a friend?" Clarke knew she was treading on very dangerous grounds. On one hand, she needed to know where she stood with Monroe exactly.

But on the other hand, she didn't want to push Monroe's jealousy.

Monroe sighed, "No. I wouldn't mind either. I want to be with you. But if you don't trust me or don't want any relationship with me, then I won't mind if you want to be with only Niylah or someone else instead or just treat me like a friend or an ally."

Clarke reached back and rubbed at the back of her neck with her left hand, her right one holding the flashlight. Her gun dangled from her shoulders and the back of her neck, reminding her that they were here to hunt, not talk about potential sexual partners. But Clarke was taken off guard. Monroe knew that a lot of what Clarke was doing and saying was a lie. She knew that everything Clarke had built up to use as a shield was fake. It was all about distrust, and Monroe knew it. Clarke felt nervous. Monroe had seen through Clarke's ruse that easily? That was disturbing.

Then again, she had underestimated a lot about Monroe. She was chock full of surprises.

"I don't know if I only want to see you as a friend and ally," Clarke said, trying to figure out how to handle this. She knew she could use Monroe and Niylah's feelings against them. But she had to be careful. She had to make sure that if there WAS any relationship between the three of them, all three of them had to agree. "But I would need to talk to Niylah first, okay?"

Monroe looked up at Clarke and in the yellowish light of the flashlights, she looked surprisingly vulnerable. Clarke felt like she was being kicked. Damn. Did Monroe HAVE to look that fragile?

The hopeful look on Monroe's face was enough to make Clarke feel terrible about her planning and conniving.

Finn's loud voice cut through Clarke and Monroe's deep and delicate conversation. "Hey! Griffin! Monroe! Over here!"

Clarke and Monroe both turned to look at where Finn was. The boy was standing on some small rocks, one foot on each crooked shape and he was pointing at a downward path. Clarke and Monroe went over to the hill that Finn was pointing down and looked at what he was directing them to. Deer. Two of them. Both hefty looking stags.

"Nice." Clarke said, grinning.

"That's gonna take more than just three of us, right?" Monroe asked, troubled.

Clarke nodded. "I think so. Monroe, could you go back and get Niylah to help us?"

Monroe looked at Clarke and Clarke could see the questions that Monroe had at Clarke's instructions. Clarke could tell that Monroe doubted that Clarke summoning Niylah was a coincidence.

Clarke said, lowering her voice so that only she and Monroe heard, "Bring Niylah here. We'll have four people to move the deer instead of three. I'll shoot the deer now, so they don't run off. But I want Niylah to come with because I want all three of us to talk. Is that okay?"

Monroe suddenly now looked even more hopeful than before. The ghost of a smile reached her lips, stretching wide. Her green eyes were then so bright and full of hope that it really hurt Clarke to think about deceiving her. Clarke tried to put the guilt out of her mind. She needed to focus on the objective. And the objective, as usual, was saving her people. She herself, Monroe and Niylah were in no way special by comparison. So she had to manipulate to the point of madness if it meant saving her people.

So using Monroe and Niylah seemed like a good enough reason. And if they both willingly agreed to a polyamorous relationship, what need was there to be afraid of retribution on either of their parts?

Monroe turned and ran across the mossy, green foliage, the flashlight beam lighting her way as she went back along the stone path where she, Clarke and Finn had come.

Clarke slowly turned back to Finn, who was watching her, surprised. "What was that about?" Finn asked. "Monroe looked really happy all of a sudden out of nowhere."

Clarke shrugged. "Probably just happy that we're going to have food sooner rather than later."

She pulled the gun up in her hands, putting the handle of the flashlight right onto a clip on top of the rifle, right next to the eyepiece.

She looked through the eyepiece, aimed the gun, saw the deer with what limited light she had, and as one of the stags looked up, attention caught by the bright light, she wrapped her finger around the trigger and fired twice, taking the safety off each time.

Finn jumped next to her and the stag that had lifted its head collapsed to the ground, dead. The second stag ran off, leaping over a row of rocks in front of it and flying through the lush forest.

Clarke lifted her head from the gun and kept the flashlight beam on the deer's carcass.

"Thankfully it's not that long from the house." Clarke said quietly. "So when Niylah and Monroe get here to help us, the deer will still be more or less fresh."

Finn nodded and said, sounding nervous, "I've got to say, Griffin, you're really something."

Clarke chuckled. "Well, I agree with you there. But I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not."

Finn laughed, "Take it as a compliment. You're a little scary, sure. Actually, you're a lot scary. But you're also a badass. If these Grounders took the rest of the 100 prisoner, we're going to need badass, aren't we?"

Clarke sighed and nodded. That was one thing she appreciated about Finn. Sure, he was a jackass, but by the end, he knew when to get serious. He knew when measures had to be made. "You're sure as fuck right about that, Finn." She answered.

She turned to face him and pulled the flashlight off the rifle, bringing the flashlight close to her face so that Finn could see her clearly. "I want you to understand me right now, Collins, I have no problem with you. The only thing I care about, I repeat, the only thing I care about, is that our people are safe. And that means everyone on the Ark come down and have a safe home, got it? The Grounders only care about their people, and we should only care about ours. Just as long as you don't try to get the attention from me that I know you want, and stay loyal to Raven Reyes, and try to be as productive a member of this group as possible, you and I will get along fine."

Clarke didn't trust anyone so far, but she meant what she said right now. She meant what she said because there was a huge difference between Finn and Bellamy.

The difference was that Bellamy had only gotten serious when he realized that he wouldn't gain anything more by trying to get the rest of the Ark killed after Clarke had gotten Thelonius Jaha to pardon everyone. So by that point, Bellamy would lose nothing else. So everything he had done after wards had been entirely selfish.

Finn, on the other hand, had ALWAYS been selfless. He always had wanted peace with the Grounders. Finn had only become dark after the war with Anya's group of warriors and because he had suffered from PTSD. But consistently before that, Finn had wanted peace with the Grounders. And even after Raven had come down and Finn had had the only two people he cared about the most, Raven and Clarke both on the ground with him, he still had done everything he could to make sure the Ark would come down safely, even before he had been pardoned by Jaha.

Unlike Bellamy, Finn was a real hero.

Finn was a true peacemaker, or had tried to be at one time.

Clarke smiled at Finn's shocked look. "Don't sweat it, Collins," She said, smile becoming a grin. "Just look at it this way. I've gotten into contact with the Ark and they're going to come down to join us in South America. And Raven's coming soon. So you'll be able to get your rocks off soon too. But don't worry about it. As long as you don't do anything to endanger our people, or break Raven's heart, there's nothing for us to worry about. So you know what, Collins?" Clarke shrugged, smirking again, thinking about the fun she, Monroe and Niylah were going to have, should they all three agree on it, "Didn't you hear? Before we go to South America, we get to go to Disney World. So you know what? Like they used to say in New Orleans before the bombs, right around Mardi Gras, 'Let the good times roll.'"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes, I did. Yes, I did. It's off to Disney World. A very rusty and damaged Disney World, but Disney World. I await everyone's insults with no surprise. You think you're going to be pissed now? Just wait till you see what I'm crossing this series over with. Just a disclaimer in advance, I obviously do not own anything Disney related. Also, I realize it's a kind of cruel joke for me to do this during what's happening. But I wrote chapter twelve before this almost world-wide thing that's going on. In hindsight, Disney closing its parks down for now, is in no way related.


	13. What good a praise can do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for abuse, betrayal, PTSD, genocide and talks about consent and sexual predators.

Monroe moved fast along the mossy and muddy, mildew smelling trail as she closed in on the row of houses where the others were. Even in the dark, the green-white house stuck out between the darker buildings. The blue house and the purple one next to it signaled the house out to her.

She saw the glow through the window on the ground floor.

She thought about what had been happening between her and Clarke. And about Niylah. And how shady Clarke was acting. Clarke, she had changed. She had changed, big time. The person that Clarke was now, it made Monroe worried. It didn't scare her, no. It wasn't that. It just made her worried. About Clarke. About her what her state of mind might be right now. Monroe didn't doubt that Clarke might be suffering from PTSD. And she probably had been for a while. The only question was, when had it started? Monroe knew most of what Clarke had been through, so there were plenty of options of when it had started. When her father had been executed in front of her, when Wells had been killed by Charlotte, when Charlotte killed herself, when Clarke was captured by the Grounders, when they went to battle with Anya's army, when Clarke ordered Anya's army be destroyed by the ring of fire-there were a lot of moments to choose from.

But Monroe knew that only Clarke would be able to answer that. Only Clarke would know for sure when her PTSD had started. Monroe wasn't entirely sure where hers had started. But she was sure that she had had PTSD before coming to Earth. Her father had been abusive. Drank a lot. Threatened her a lot. Eventually she had run away to live in the Ark's back alleys and more dangerous communities, because anything had been better than being around her father.

Her PTSD had just gotten worse after the battle with Anya's army and running into the Mountain Men.

Monroe knew one thing for sure. Clarke was using her cynicism, her anger, her hatred even as her shield against the world. It was a shield. It was a shield Monroe was very familiar with. She had seen other kids like her all over the Ark. Kids who used their cynicism and passive aggressiveness as a shield to keep people from really knowing them. From knowing their problems, knowing their pain. It was similar in most kids. Trying to have hard, sharp and venomous spikes to hide the wounds that their society had caused them. But underneath they were still human beings. There was a person under all that anger and passive-aggressive rage that Clarke was generating. Clarke was just trying to make that person harder to find.

Clarke had a hard shell of protective anger and rage and cynicism keeping her safe right now. It was apparent in every word Clarke said. It was obvious in every sneer and cold stare she made. Clarke was traumatized. And Monroe knew she had a lot of work before she got to the center of all that anger and trauma.

Monroe also wasn't stupid. She knew that Clarke was smart and cunning. She could trick a fish out of the river and into a roaring fire to be cooked for dinner. Clarke was planning something. That was for sure. When Monroe saw Clarke telling her to get Niylah, Monroe was practically positive about it. Clarke was planning. Planning what? Monroe didn't have a clue.

But if she and Niylah could work together to find out, they might be able to help Clarke. Monroe felt a twinge of jealousy. She wasn't jealous of Niylah because Niylah was in love with Clarke. That wasn't it. She was jealous of Niylah, because she had obviously been with Clarke before. Monroe hadn't even had a chance. Niylah had obviously been with Clarke beforehand before Monroe could even tell Clarke about her feelings.

But Monroe knew her jealousy wasn't what was important. Clarke was the only one important.

And that was why she needed to get over her issues and speak to Niylah. Niylah remembered too. And she was in love with Clarke too, or that was what she said, anyway. Monroe considered her options as she got closer to the green-white house. She wondered how she should go about doing this. How should she go about getting Niylah to work with her? They had time before getting to Clarke and Finn. Monroe had heard the two gunshots behind her and knew that Clarke had taken down one of the deer. So she knew that Niylah had a reason to come back with her. But then there was the discussion she'd need to have with Niylah. How did she get Niylah to work with her? She was about to find out.

She went up the steps to the house, getting to the door of the house and she wrapped her right fist against the door. She heard footsteps and saw the dust covered curtain that had at one time been white be pulled back by Monty, who looked through the glass window. Monroe flashed the light from the flashlight on her face so that Monty could see her. He nodded and unlocked the door and pulled the door open.

Monroe stepped through as Monty stepped back, allowing her inside the dusty living room of the house. A warm, roaring fire instantly heating Monroe up as soon as she got into the house.

Monroe smiled at Monty and turned to Niylah who was watching her expectantly. "Hey, Niylah," She said, "Can you come with me? Clarke and Finn need help carrying the deer that Clarke killed for our food. She asked only for you. And she said everyone else was to stay here." Monroe turned her head to look at Monty, Jasper, Wells, Harper, Fox, Pascal and Trina, making sure they understood.

Niylah nodded. "Understood." She said. She turned to Wells, "Remember what I showed you. You know how to control the fire, I gather?"

Wells smiled. "Yeah, I know. I can keep it going while you go get the deer."

Niylah beamed. "Excellent." She turned then to Monroe. "Lead the way."

Monroe swiveled around and headed out the door, down the steps and went out onto the front porch of the house. She heard Niylah following her out.

Monroe smiled. Good. Now she and Niylah could talk. When the door of the house was closed and Niylah was next to Monroe on the ground besides the house's front steps, Monroe nodded to the path, using her flashlight for guidance. "Thanks for coming with me." Monroe said, smiling at Niylah.

Niylah nodded her head. "You know already why I'm going to help you, I gather."

"Yeah," Monroe said, smirking, knowing that Niylah most likely had already figured her out. "I have a guess. And I think you have a guess about what I want to talk to you about, right?"

Even in the weak light that Monroe had on her, she could see Niylah's calm face observing her. "I have a guess." The Grounder answered back.

Monroe smirked. She turned her head to Niylah, but kept her eyes on the path so that she didn't trip and fall. "If you have a guess," She started, "Then maybe we can work something out. In fact, I'd like it if we could work something out. I want to keep Clarke safe. And if someone loves Clarke, I think that's a closer way of keeping her safe."

Niylah nodded, not looking surprised by this declaration. Which made Monroe think that yes, apparently Niylah had already caught up on current events. Niylah answered, saying something that surprised the braided delinquent, "Klark is not yet of age, is she?"

Monroe frowned. Of age? It occurred to her then what Niylah meant. Oh. Monroe shook her head. "Right now, no. She's still considered by Ark laws a child. She's seventeen right now. Almost eighteen."

It occurred to Monroe that she actually didn't know Clarke's exact age, only had guessed it. Back in the previous timeline, she hadn't known, but it had relieved her to know that she and Clarke couldn't be that far apart in age, since they were both teenagers, likely sixteen to eighteen. But she hadn't been sure. She still wasn't.

Niylah nodded. "Very well, then. I will not touch Klark until she is of age. However, she will always have my loyalty and protection. Is that what you wanted to speak with me about?"

Monroe was startled by this declaration. A Grounder, from a culture that from what Monroe had learned about the Trikru from Lincoln in the previous timeline, was much more laxed about sex than the people from the ark were. And she was stating that she would not take advantage of a teenager's age until that teenager was an adult?

Monroe was again impressed on how much more mature this woman was from Bellamy.

Unlike the man Monroe had come to forsake, Niylah would not touch a child. Niylah was no Bellamy.

Monroe smiled at Niylah, not expecting how grateful she was for Niylah's words. "Thank you, Niylah." She said, not even meaning to say that.

Niylah tilted her head at Monroe. "'Thank you?' For what?" She asked.

Monroe chuckled, shaking her head. "Never mind." How sad was it that the expectation for human decency was so low that finding out that an adult wasn't going to sexually take advantage of a child had made that adult become a hope for Monroe? She smirked. Her time around Bellamy and Octavia and Murphy had made her cynical, indeed. But here Niylah was, being unwilling to do what Bellamy had done. To not take advantage of a child sexually.

If this was the ally she had, then she'd take it.

If Niylah would not take advantage of Clarke, then she was an ally.

Monroe nodded to Niylah. "How about we come to an agreement? I want Clarke to be happy. And I'm sure you do too. I want her to be safe too. And I want to be with her. If we work together, we can keep her safe and happy. And when she's 'of age,' we both offer ourselves to her?"

Niylah was watchful of Monroe and she smirked. "And if she refuses us both or one of us? Will you respect her choice?"

Monroe was startled. She realized then that Niylah was doing the same thing with her that she herself was doing with Niylah.

Niylah was making sure that her companion was not going to take advantage of Clarke in any way.

Monroe's smile widened. It looked like she had made a good ally by doing this. "I will respect her wishes if she doesn't want me." Monroe answered, knowing that she meant it, even if Clarke's potential rejection hurt. "And I'll protect her even if she doesn't want me in that way."

Niylah smiled. "Very good." She said. "If I feel like you are going to go against your promise, I will kill you."

Monroe felt a laugh burst from her throat. It wasn't a very high-pitched laugh, and it wasn't a disbelieving laugh either. Monroe wasn't sure what kind of laugh it was, but she realized she wasn't that scared of Niylah's threats. She had no reason to be. Because she meant her words. She'd respect Clarke's wishes and would still protect Clarke with her life.

Monroe nodded, still with a grin on her face. "Alright. But you better remember this too, Niylah. You hurt Clarke in any way or take advantage of her or not respect her wish to be left alone if she doesn't accept your love," She raised her weapon in indication. "And I kill you. Slowly."

Niylah actually smiled, much to Monroe's surprise. "Very well. I agree with this decision. I will not take advantage of Klark's age. And I will respect her wish not to accept me, should she decide she not want my attentions. And I will make sure that she's safe and happy. I will kill all threats to her, including you, if need be. And you will do the same?"

Monroe nodded. "I will not take advantage of her. I will respect her wishes if she decides she doesn't want me. And I will kill all threats to her, including you, if need be. And I will make sure she's happy and safe."

Niylah nodded, smile still in place. "Then I see no reason for us not to work together."

Monroe felt a grin cross her face. She had never thought being threatened in the same sentence as agreeing to an alliance would make her so happy. But then again, life had been weird lately, hadn't it? When you found yourself in the middle of a time traveling or different dimension thing going on, it was hard NOT to assume things being weird was the default.

Monroe turned back to the path and said loud enough for Niylah to hear, "When did you realize that you were in love with her?"

She heard Niylah chuckle, "Only a few days after she and I first laid together."

Monroe sighed. She had suspected that Clarke and Niylah had had sex before. It wasn't really disappointing to know that Clarke had slept with someone else, because she knew that before Niylah, Clarke had had a relationship with both Lexa and Anya. And before that, with Finn.

Monroe was just sorry that she hadn't been there to look after Clarke too.

"What about you?" Niylah asked curiously.

Monroe thought about it. Niylah deserved an honest answer, didn't she? "I don't know really," Monroe admitted, "I just came to understand my feelings one day. After Clarke had left, after she killed the Mountain Men. I just realized why I was missing her so much. Why it hurt so much that she was gone."

Niylah nodded. "I see. Well, we can protect her now."

Monroe smiled again. Well, it was nice to have an ally that knew as much as she did, wasn't it?

Monroe was hesitant in what she was about to ask next. This was maybe pushing it. But she found that she couldn't resist asking. "You know what kind of things Clarke enjoys sexually, right?"

Rather than hear an awkward silence or a disgusted answer, she heard another laugh, "Munroh kom Skaikru," Niylah chuckled, "Are you trying to figure out how to best please our Klark?"

Something in the way Niylah said that, "please our Klark," made Monroe shiver. She liked how that sounded.

"I guess so." Monroe said, not able to stop her quiet laughter.

Niylah sighed. "I think maybe that's a good think. If we have the same intentions. When she and I first were together, she tried to control it. But I held her down and put my mouth on her. That seemed to please her a great deal. She seems to like being dominated. And she enjoys being held down."

Monroe swallowed, feeling heat travel right to her belly. The thought of the two of them together dominating Clarke, holding her down, with one of them fixing their mouth on Clarke's cunt, while the other played with Clarke's breasts and bit her throat, made her fight down a groan. She needed to get herself under control. Especially since she and Niylah were approaching where Clarke and Finn were. She didn't want to risk making Clarke go on alert.

Niylah then asked, "Munroh, may I ask you something now?"

Monroe tilted her head back, arousal distracted now, "Hmm?" She mumbled.

Niylah continued. "I've noticed that Klark doesn't seem to like Jaspa. And I understand why. But we both are sure that Oktevia might not be alive anymore, right?"

Monroe almost froze, but kept walking. Shit. That hadn't occurred to her before. But Niylah had a point. If Clarke really hated the people who screwed her over last time, it was very likely that she would do what she felt she needed to do in order to get rid of them. Did that mean that Octavia was dead? Clarke had made up a story about how Octavia had been left behind with Lincoln, because they had gone off to find Reapers supposedly. But Monroe knew that that had been a lie. Was it possible that Clarke had killed Octavia?

Monroe tried to think about that. Would that bother her? No, she realized. It would not bother her. It just made her sad for Clarke. Clarke had gone through so much that she had just finally snapped.

Monroe couldn't blame her. She didn't know if Octavia still lived. But if Octavia didn't, Monroe couldn't blame Clarke for what the other girl might have done.

So where did that leave Jasper? Clarke had decided for now that Finn was somewhat trustworthy. But Jasper was the odd one out in their number.

Monroe knew that if Clarke gave her the order, yes, Monroe WOULD kill Jasper. If Clarke decided that Jasper dying would make her happy, Monroe would never refuse. But she didn't know what to expect of this version of Clarke. The old version of Clarke wouldn't want Jasper dead. But this version of Clarke was very different from the old version of Clarke, wasn't she?

Monroe nodded. "It's very likely that Clarke wants Jasper dead," She admitted. "But we have to be careful, because Monty's involved too. Monty is useful. So Clarke probably doesn't want to risk Monty turning against her if Jasper suddenly winds up dead. So we should wait until Clarke gives us the order. Besides," Monroe added, smirking as she remembered Clarke's words to her before she took off to get Niylah, "We are in luck when it comes to Clarke's affections."

She turned again to Niylah, seeing the Grounder's interested look. "She told me to tell you that she would be interested in being with the both of us. So we have more to think about than whether we should kill Jasper when the time comes."

Niylah smiled, now intrigued. "That's good to hear. But one of us needs to explain that I will not touch Klark, while she is not yet of age."

Monroe nodded, again smiling. Niylah might be a little too noble. But she couldn't complain about that either, could she? When she and Niylah reached the slope where Clarke and Finn stood with the dead deer, Clarke waved them down and Monroe and Niylah shared a look, one that Monroe was sure Clarke saw. Monroe smiled at Clarke as she leaned down and helped with the deer.

Back in the Trikru's land, Leksa had found the shed where Niylah kom Trikru's uncle lived and worked. He told his Heda that his niece had come by and had told him that she needed several of the tek powered boats to get somewhere. She hadn't said where. That information had made Leksa's heart fall. She had Oktevia in her power now. Locked away with the rest of the Sky Children in Polis. But that didn't help her. She had questioned all of the Skaikru. They didn't know anything about where Klark and the others had gone. If Klark had Niylah with her, then she could navigate much better.

But that still left the question of where Klark and her companions had gone.

Leksa stood now at the edge of the shore, looking across the frothing sea that had reflected moonlight bouncing off the dark waves.

"Klark," She whispered, heart hurting, "Where are you?"

Across the forest in the Trikru's territory, Onya stood, tracking the imprints of feet on the ground. She knew that she had been tracking the same tracks for a while now. But if these were the tracks that belonged to the people that the Commander wanted, Onya could not say for sure. But she would continue to pursue until she found out.

An invisible lightning bolt struck her then, making her freeze. She was not harmed in any way, nor was she sent backwards, but she stiffened up, eyes wide as images played over and over again in her mind.

At that second, Onya remembered everything.

The battle at the dropship with Klark's people. Being taken captive by the Mountain Men. Klark breaking her out of the mountain. Falling in love with Klark. Having almost five loving, impassioned months with her and Leksa sharing a lover in Klark. Leksa abandoning the Skaikru at the mountain. Klark leaving her people after she killed the Mountain Men. Klark going back to her people to stop them from starting a war. Learning of Klark's death at the hands of the people she trusted.

Every torturous memory hit Onya and she stood up sharply then.

She heard her men's voices, sounding worried. "Onya?" One of her men asked.

But she didn't listen. She walked over to her horse, and grabbed the saddle, readying it for riding. She barked at her warriors, "Follow me. We are going to find the missing Sky People!"

She Jumped up onto her horse, slid her feet into the stirrups and grabbed the reins, pulling the horse in the direction of the deeper part of the forest. "Come with me to the Commander! We will find out where the Sky People have gone if she's found anything." She heard many a cries of agreement from her warriors. She surveyed every warrior she had taken with her. Among them, who was the most loyal? Who would choose her commands over those of their Heda?

She knew for sure that the four warriors who she had fought besides during the wars before Leksa had created the coalition would be loyal. Among those four warriors were Salmo, Veva, Handag and Marala.

Luckily, all four of them were strong. Powerful. Should Heda order Onya to be locked away, Onya would have four strong warriors willing to fight by her side. Good.

Onya then called over to a fifth warrior, Sakena. "Sakena," She yelled, "Are you with me?"

Sakena looked at Onya, surprised. Her dark brown eyes were confused and her long curls of black hair went past her dark, muscled shoulders as she nodded. Onya smiled. Sakena was one of the warriors who might not be with her yet, but had reason to be. From the other time before, she did.

During Klark's time in Polis, Sakena became attached to the girl. Saw her as her own child. Sakena had never had any children of her own. But she had instantly been drawn to Klark and Klark's intelligence and Klark's wounded condition. Klark had not been hurt much after she and Onya had escaped together from the Mountain, but she had been traumatized. Klark hadn't known how protective Sakena had become of Klark, because Sakena hadn't told her. But Sakena had confided in Onya when they had tried to get back to the Mountain after Leksa ordered them away. Sakena had confided in Onya that she saw Klark as her daughter, and wished to keep her.

Onya wasn't worried about this. In fact, just the opposite. If she was to seek Klark's affections out, and keep Klark from Leksa and the rest of the Sky People who only endangered Klark, then she knew it was only prudent for Klark to have a new and actually protective mother, rather than that waste of parental presence, Abi kom Skaikru. Abi, Klark's blood mother was no mother at all. Onya remembered that now. Abi killed Klark's father. Not on her own, but she did kill Klark's father anyway. And when Klark didn't do what Abi wanted, exactly what Abi wanted, Klark became a pariah in Abi's eyes.

Abi was no mother at all. But Sakena was. Onya kept her eyes on Sakena as she smiled at the woman. Klark hadn't known what Sakena's feelings were when it came to the young Sky girl, but she would find out. When Onya got Sakena to Klark, Klark could see that Sakena was a much better suited mother than Abi.

Onya nodded to her side. "Sakena," She said, "Ride next to me!"

Sakena galloped up on her horse, 'Wind Racer,' and slowed the almost black mare next to Onya's roan stallion, 'Sword Biter.' Sakena turned her eyes to Onya. "Onya?" She questioned.

Onya smiled at her and nodded. "Sakena," Onya said as she and the other woman rode along, other warriors riding behind the two of them, "There is something I need to speak with you about. And this isn't to get back to Heda, hear me, Sakena?"

Sakena tilted her head as she rode next to Onya. "Very well. I don't understand. But I hear you, Onya."

Onya smiled as they rode.

Back in the land of the Shallow Valley people, the entire body of the deer had been cut apart, the pieces of meat cooked and passed around from one person to another. Dusty, white plates had been found in the house and cleaned off and washed. And when each slab of venison had been cleaned and cooked, they were placed on a plate for each person.

During the whole dinner, Monroe had noticed a worrying pattern. Clarke was picking at her meat, and glaring at Jasper every now and then. They were sitting in a circle on the now clean floor because Clarke ordered Monty and Finn to clean the floor. When Jasper had made a joke about women being the ones that "should clean," Clarke had given him a glare so rotten and disgusted that Jasper had instantly quieted and paled, looking like he was terrified of Clarke's anger and didn't say another word for the rest of dinner.

Monroe watched Clarke as Clarke ate. She saw Clarke was glaring at Jasper while Jasper and Monty weren't looking.

Clarke had that familiar look of murder in her beautiful, blue eyes.

Monroe swallowed, realizing that they might have a problem. Clarke was angry. Resentful. She was hiding her rage, but there were some emotions that just bled through. Clarke had been trying to hide her darker feelings. But she couldn't hide the pain. Couldn't hide the resentment she felt when it came to Jasper.

In this group of people, there was only one of them here who had hurt Clarke enough to make her feel such vengeful emotions. Jasper. Jasper was the one remaining person in Clarke's presence who had hurt her in some way. Who had made her feel rage and betrayed.

This worried Monroe. As long as Jasper remained, did that mean that Clarke would be prone to dark moods and violent impulses?

Monroe had to wonder if that meant that Jasper needed to be gotten rid of. But she knew that that wasn't a possibility for them. Because of Monty. Monty was valuable. He was important because of his knowledge of technology. And because of that, they couldn't risk Monty not being loyal to them. And if anything happened to Jasper? That would interfere in Monty's loyalty.

Monroe suspected that that was why Clarke didn't ever include Monty in their talks about what to do next. Because Clarke wasn't trusting Monty. And Monroe realized that that was the reality. If they wanted Monty to stay loyal, they couldn't tell him the truth. Monty had to be kept ignorant of how useless Jasper had been, and even more importantly, had to keep Jasper ignorant of how much Clarke despised Jasper and wanted him dead. Monroe wasn't going to assume that Clarke wanted him dead, but she knew she had to acknowledge that there was that possibility.

When Clarke made an unnerving joke about what it would feel like for someone to get a spear in the chest, glancing only momentarily at Jasper, with a smirk on her face, Monroe had had enough. She asked Clarke if she could speak with Clarke outside.

Clarke nodded, even though she had a smirk on her face and got up from her half-eaten plate of venison. She followed Monroe out after asking Wells to stay with the others and she walked after Monroe out of the house. They ignored the stares on them as they exited the house, Monroe closing the door of the house.

She and Clarke went down the stairs to the front yard of the house that had overgrown wild, full of grass, weeds, shrubs, dandelions and withering sunflowers.

Monroe stood in front of Clarke in the dark, the only light provided to them from the stars and moon above and from the light from the inside of the house coming out through the glass windows.

"What is going on here, Clarke?" Monroe demanded, staring at her challengingly.

Clarke smirked at Monroe and Monroe wasn't sure if Clarke was faking an innocent look right now, because it was so dark, but she was almost sure that Clarke was. "Monroe, I have no clue what you're fucking talking about."

Monroe scoffed. "Bullshit. You know. What was all that with Jasper? Are you really going to make him feel like an outcast for the rest of the time till we get to South America? And long after?"

Clarke shrugged, now with what Monroe was sure, was a blameless expression on her face. "Why not?" She asked. "He treated me like I was an outcast, every chance he got." Her face then darkened in a cold sneer, "So he lost Maya. Ooh, poor fucking little baby. I lost even more than he did last time. My father. Wells. Finn. Hell, I lost my mother too because she made it obvious that she didn't fucking love me. But somehow I'M the bad guy? I AM?!"

Monroe winced at the volume of Clarke's enraged voice. She turned to look at the house. The door was still closed and so were all three of the front windows on the ground floor. Good. No one was listening in.

She turned back to Clarke, thinking. This was just like what she had thought before. Clarke was defending herself. With anger. It was just a way of protecting herself from being hurt again.

Clarke's anger was just a shield. But that shield was becoming very problematic.

"Alright, Clarke," Monroe said, "I get it. You're angry. You're in pain. I get it. Really, I do."

Clarke snorted, grinning. "Sure you do."

Monroe scowled. "I DO. You think I felt nothing when I found out that you left? You think I felt nothing when I found out that you had been betrayed and killed? You think I didn't hate Bellamy with everything that I am when I heard that? I hated him. I still hate him. And I hate anyone who was involved with your death. Bellamy. Lexa. Anya. Pike. Octavia. All of them."

Monroe stared at Clarke, wanting Clarke to get it. "You're right, Clarke," She continued. "You lost more than Jasper did last time. Way, way more. And you didn't act like a spoiled entitled shit like he did after it all. But we have another chance now. If seeing Jasper causes so much anger for you, that chance might disappear."

Monroe tried to articulate her words better. She knew she needed to be careful with how worded everything. Nothing to indicate, if only by accident that she blamed Clarke in any way. Clarke had experienced enough blame last time that even a hint of blame being thrown at her might set her off.

"If we have a new path we can go on," Monroe reasoned, "Then shouldn't we tread as lightly as we can? And NOT threaten people in our group?"

Clarke smirked. "I see no problem with threatening someone who you know has had a history of being a little traitor."

This time Monroe had a good retort. "Not yet he doesn't. none of the things that made Jasper into the ungrateful and traitorous person he was before have happened. It's not like Bellamy or Murphy who basically arrived on the ground being rotten people.

"Jasper got that way during the things that happened to him on the ground," Monroe continued. "And those things haven't happened yet." Monroe added, smiling at Clarke, "They haven't happened yet because you kept Jasper and the rest of us safe."

This time, Monroe was sure she saw a change in Clarke's face. Her eyes widened just a little and her mouth fell open slightly. Monroe's smile widened. She doubted that Clarke was used to being praised for her heroic efforts. No, it was unlikely that she was used to that. Most likely Bellamy, Murphy, Jasper, Octavia, Miller and Abby had all gotten her acquainted with verbal abuse and serious lack of gratitude.

Monroe couldn't help but beam. If praising was what Clarke needed more of, then there was nothing that would keep Monroe from doing that. If Clarke was unused to such praising, well Monroe would obviously have to change that.

Monroe added, "You kept us safe. And because of that, Jasper didn't get a spear to the chest, and he's not traumatized. Which means that there's a chance we can get him to be brave and even not a selfish jerk. If he doesn't change in that way, then oh, well, I guess you were right, he was always fated to be a piece of shit. We'll get rid of him when the time comes. But if he does change? If he becomes brave and selfless, then guess what? The one who we'll be able to thank for that, because he was kept safe, will be you, Clarke. If Jasper becomes a better person, it will all be because you protected him and kept him safe."

Monroe's words, to her relief, had their affect. Clarke almost stepped back, looking startled. It looked actually like an electric shock had just hit her. Monroe's smile softened. Funny what just a few kindly compliments could do for a person who had a low self-esteem issue.

Funny, but also horrible. Because it just went to show what people, people that Monroe had trusted before, had done to Clarke.

If Monroe hadn't hated Bellamy, Abby, Murphy, Jasper, Raven, Octavia and Miller before, she sure did now.

Monroe nodded to Clarke, "Just think about it. Anyway, we should probably get inside before they start worrying that a pauna's going to come and eat us."

Clarke chuckled. "I don't think there are paunas in Florida, Monroe."

Monroe looked at Clarke, smirking. "How do we know? We've never been to Florida before, remember?"

Clarke sighed, "Okay, you got me, there."

Monroe and Clarke went back inside and closed the door behind them. Thankfully, none of the others had moved from their spots on the floor. Jasper was trying to make Harper and Fox laugh by dangling a string of venison out of his mouth. This earned a disgusted look from Fox but a laugh from Harper.

Clarke slowly turned and looked at Monroe skeptically. She subtly gestured to Jasper. "A brave, selfless guy? Really?"

Monroe chuckled quietly, "It's a work in progress."

"Yeah," Clarke snorted. "A very LONG work in progress. I'm not his mother."

Monroe nodded. "And I'm not asking you to be. I'm just asking you to give him a new chance. And he's alive because of you. He's safe because of you. And because of you, he might grow into a better person."

Hearing Clarke scoff again, Monroe sighed as she and Clarke moved over to the group and grabbed their plates full of food, going to the floor, joining the others as the stuck pieces of deer rested by the roaring fireplace.

Niylah watched them this whole time walk over and sit down and she asked, interested, "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine." Clarke said, however, she didn't look as pessimistic anymore. She was now looking at Monroe funny.

Monroe fought a smirk as she took a bite of her venison again. Thankfully it was still warm.

So praising was what worked with Clarke? Good. Now Monroe had something. Not just something to placate Clarke, but something that might make her feel better. Might help her very low opinion of herself. Might even help her to trust again.

That was a reach, and Monroe knew it. But she had to try. Not just for her people, but mainly for Clarke. When Monroe had spoken to Clarke just now, she hadn't been thinking about protecting Jasper or making it easier to protect their people. No, when Monroe did that just now, she had been thinking only about making Clarke feel better. Jasper and the rest of their people were just a means to an end. Monroe understood that. If they were able to keep their people safe, then that meant that Clarke would feel better about herself. And if that happened, Monroe realized it would make her feel like she had actually accomplished something. She would be helping make the girl she loved happy.

Monroe thought about it and knew that anyone looking at it from an altruistic angle would most likely think of Monroe's reasoning as selfish and cold. But the more Monroe thought of it, the less she felt that she and Clarke owed anything to their people. Her people had treated Monroe like shit from the beginning. After she had run away from her abusive father, she had all been basically a lowly runaway and treated as such. Clarke had been betrayed by their people more times than Monroe could count. So they owed their people nothing. But Monroe knew that they needed to have a community of some kind. One that was controlled by no one but themselves. And where were they going to GET this community? It wasn't going to pop out of thin air. So unfortunately, the Sky People it was.

And Monroe had no warm and fuzzy feelings for them. But if saving them and getting them to a safe place on Earth made Clarke happy and made her feel better about herself, then Monroe would risk life and limb to make it happen.

Monroe thought about how easy it had been to get Clarke to react, just by praising her. It was sad. Really sad that Clarke was so unused to compliments that when she was actually complimented, she was genuinely startled. Monroe's chest tightened. It was just so sad and tragic almost. This was what their people had done to Clarke. This was what Pike, Bellamy, Murphy, Jasper, Octavia, Miller, Raven and Abby had done to her.

But that didn't matter anymore, did it?

Now that she and Clarke had left the rest of the 100 behind, the only three people that they'd have to deal with were Jasper, Raven and Abby.

Lexa and Anya probably wouldn't be problems, since the eleven of them were traveling to a completely different continent eventually.

Jasper could be changed hopefully. And with Finn being told off, he'd eventually end up back in Raven's arms.

So even if Raven was complaining about Clarke, she would have Finn to distract her.

Then there was Abby. Monroe hadn't known much about the physician, just that Abby hadn't had a good relationship with Clarke. Because Clarke wasn't who Abby had wanted her to be, Abby had treated Clarke unwell.

Monroe's eyes scowled into the meat on her dish. Abby. Since she was one of the people that they were going to have to deal with, she would have to be the subject of Monroe's scrutiny.

Abby was one of the reasons why Clarke was so unused to being complimented, to being praised.

Clarke's own mother had blamed her for Ton DC. Her own mother had almost gotten Clarke killed by selling her out to Thelonius Jaha.

Monroe knew that Abby would need to be dealt with when she and that political climber, Kane got down to Earth. Either by force or by political ploys. But they would have to be dealt with.

Monroe tried to focus only on the food. She had already defused the situation before Clarke turned violent. She didn't need to be distracted too.

She felt a gaze on her. She slowly looked up and noticed Niylah looking at her strangely, but chose to ignore it.

After everyone ate and what was left of the deer was tossed out of the house, since the fridge and the freezer in both house was not working anymore, so the rest of the deer was left to rot outside.

They decided they'd rest up in the house and when they got up first thing in the morning, they'd head for "Ney-wor." The name still made Clarke cackle with dark glee. Monroe shared a worried look with Niylah, but they said nothing on it. Wells caught Monroe's look and whispered to her, "What were you two talking about outside before?"

Monroe shook her head. "Just making sure that Clarke doesn't give away anything." Monroe could tell that Wells wasn't entirely convinced, but he didn't push it.

When everyone was done with dinner, the fire in the fireplace was put out. Niylah gathered dirt from the front yard and layered it all over the fire, smothering the flames.

Then some of the candles were snuffed out and people got ready for sleeping in their respective house.

Everyone went to their place among the two houses. Clarke had dusted off a couch in the living room. Monroe had asked her if she wanted to sleep next to her and Niylah like they did back in the bunker.

Clarke had watched them, surprised. But since everyone was already tucked away in their own room with the sleeping provisions they'd need, she was alone with Niylah and Monroe now. And Clarke had her loaded gun. So she wasn't in danger. She knew she wasn't.

Monroe patted off the last sheets of dust from the bed and pushed the covers back. Niylah opened up the pack that she had put down on the floor and pulled out another large sheet of fur and laid it over the mattress of the bed.

Clarke watched them, interested. Niylah turned to Clarke and said, "You're not of age yet, Klark. You're not eighteen. So I won't offer myself to you unless you want me to, until then. So if you'd like, you can use my fur, and I'll sleep on the couch instead."

Clarke tilted her head at Nilyah. "You don't have to sleep on the couch." She smirked. "And I'm not going to be picky about adults touching me. Not when you're a lot better than most people."

Monroe's jaw was clenched. Niylah however said in a sad tone, "I know that you've gotten used to people wanting you for only what you can give them. And not caring what abuse you experience. But I won't touch you in any sexual way until you are of age. And only if you give me permission."

Clarke stared at Niylah, disbelieving. She snorted, "That's real noble. But no need to treat me like I'm some fragile child. I don't care what happens."

Niylah nodded. "Yes. And that's the problem. You've gotten used to not being cared about. So you've stopped caring too. That in every sense of the word is abuse. You need to heal, Klark. And an adult taking advantage of you being a child won't help."

Monroe couldn't help but smile at Niylah's noble answer to Clarke's callousness.

Clarke sneered at Niylah, "I'm NOT a child. I haven't been a child in a while."

Niylah nodded, face still saddened. "I know. And again, that's the problem. When was the last time someone let you be a child?"

This time, Monroe saw Clarke wince. Her jaw was tight set and she was glaring at Niylah. But she said nothing. However, Niylah's words obviously had a hit a mark.

Niylah nodded to Clarke. "If you need time to admit that you need help, that's okay. If you need also to not let anyone near you for a time, and admit that you're a child, that's okay."

Niylah gestured at the couch. "I will use the couch. I'll sleep there. That's my decision, Klark. I'll appreciate it if you would respect that."

Clarke glowered at Niylah, then nodded. "Whatever." She grumbled, "Do what you want. I don't care." Clarke's voice and words were lacking in luster, Monroe couldn't help but notice, and doubted that Niylah didn't notice as well.

Eventually, Niylah slid down onto the couch on her side and pulled one of her furs over herself, keeping her warm. She called to Clarke and Monroe before she started to go to sleep, "Goodnight, Klark! Goodnight, Munroh!" She then leaned forward and blew out the candles along the wooden table next to the couch, getting rid of the fire hazard.

"Goodnight." Both Clarke and Monroe called back, Clarke's voice more dry and cynical than Monroe's.

Clarke and Monroe then turned to the bed. Clarke took one look at Monroe and scowled, shaking her head. She then pulled the rifle over her shoulder and put it down on the floor by the bed and went to the bed and lay on her side of the bed, kicking her shoes off and leaving them on the floor next to the bed. Her eyes remained on the rifle that was standing upwards beside the bed, hwere she could see it. Monroe sighed as she walked around the bed, shoving one shoe off after the other and leaving them on the floor, getting up into the bed behind Clarke and pulling the fur over her and Clarke.

As Monroe reached for the candle that had been lit to blow it out, she heard Clarke ask in a mocking tone, "What? No kiss goodnight, Monroe?"

Monroe paused and while some part of her wanted to take Clarke up on that statement, the way Clarke had spoken so cynically and so mockingly made her suspect that giving in this early was not a good idea. Clarke needed people to not take advantage of her. Even if it was only a little. And acting too desperate would be playing Clarke's game.

Instead of acting eager or desperate, Monroe controlled her voice as she looked over her shoulder at Clarke's back and asked, "Is that what you want, Clarke?"

When she heard no response, Monroe kept speaking, "If you really want me to kiss you, then sure, I'll do it. But if you don't, then no, I won't kiss you."

She saw Clarke tense up, but Clarke didn't answer. Monroe nodded, turning to the candle and blowing it out. She put the candle down as darkness engulfed the room. "Goodnight, then, Clarke." Monroe said, lying her head down on the mattress, her back to Clarke, closing her eyes.

Next to her, Clarke stared into darkness, thinking about what Niylah and Monroe were doing.

How was she supposed to deal with all this? Were both Niylah and Monroe honest? Or did she need to start watching her back as always? She had learned the hard way last time that the people she thought she could trust would stab her in the back as soon as it benefitted them.

That reality made Clarke tense. Monroe and Niylah might not benefit from betraying her now, but eventually they'd find something that they'd gain out of treachery. Then they'd betray her.

Clarke's jaw tensed and she tried to get to sleep quickly. She knew she'd need her strength to prepare for whatever exactly was ahead. Her eyes slid back to the dark shape behind her of Monroe's body. And for whatever treason lay ahead.

Meanwhile, back on the Ark, a treason was being decided where Callie Cartwig was standing. She had looked at the digital pictures of the two children who she had come to love over the years. Wells Jaha and Clarke Griffin. Her son in daughter-just not officially or by blood. So how was she to protect them? The answer was a horrible one. But Callie had a feeling that she knew what it was. In order for Clarke and Wells to be safe from both Thelonius Jaha and from Marcus Kane, she had to take control. And she couldn't risk the wrong people being voted into power.

It was then that Callie made her decision. She turned to the people around her at the control panels and saw that Abby Griffin was asleep on the panel. She smiled, going past the panel, out the door. She had an idea. A horrible one. But she knew it would work. She went to the medic room where Jaha was recuperating. There were many tubes and wires attached to him. All of those tubes and wires were what was keeping him alive. Unfortunately for him, Callie knew how to unscrew those tubes and wires. What was more, she knew how long it would take till those tubes and wires eventually fell out on their own, after being unscrewed. And she knew that Kane had a tendency of visiting Jaha's bedside, hoping to catch wind of Jaha being dead.

This unfortunately for both men, set up the perfect scenario for Callie and her route to power.

She went down the hall and went to the medical hall where Jaha was located.

She went into the main room and checked the halls and the rooms walls. No cameras. Good. She saw the rectangular, plastic tube that Thelonius lay in, stitched up and barely breathing well. She turned and looked down at the small table in the corner of the room where a light blue cardboard box sat, where plastic, see-through gloves were stuffed in for the medical staff.

Callie grabbed two gloves from the box, slipping one on after another. She then turned to the plastic tube where Thelonius lay. She went to the tubes and the wires. She lifted her gloved hands to the screws where the tubes and wires were secured and began to unscrew each of them. She knew Kane would be visiting in only two or three minutes. When she unscrewed the last of the tubes, knowing that only a few minutes after Kane would arrive here, the tubes would fall right out. But Kane wouldn't stay long enough to see it. Which meant that Jaha would die most likely. And Kane would be held accountable, because she would report him as having murdered or trying to murder Jaha.

She pulled off the gloves when she was done unscrewing everything and stuffed the plastic gloves into her pockets. She exited the doors of the room and looked down the hallway. She saw a shadow climb up on the left-hand wall. She smiled, seeing that shadow belonging to Kane. She saw Kane coming down the hall and turned the other way, disappearing behind the corner. She peaked out from behind the metal wall, seeing Kane enter the medic room. She smirked when the doors shut. He would be there for around four minutes. And then he would leave. It had taken her only two minutes to unscrew everything. Which meant four minutes would be more than enough time to kill Thelonius that way. She would report Kane murdering Jaha, as soon as Kane left the medic room and went down the hallway.

Eventually, Kane did leave the room and walked down the hall. Callie went to the door and peered in. Because it was a motion detecting doorway, as soon as she was close, the door opened up and she looked at the plastic coffin-like machine where Jaha lay. Everything looked normal now. Another second past by and Callie almost laughed when she saw the tubes gradually falling out, losing purchase in their sheathes. She smirked when she saw the flatline on the screens. Too bad she had unhooked that too. So that the medics wouldn't rush to Jaha's side.

She turned and saw Kane's back disappear down the hall. It would be a few minutes now. And she would report that Kane had murdered the chancellor.

There would be no room for a dead chancellor. But even less room for a potential chancellor who had murdered the former leader.

Almost a minute went by, when Callie made the call through the intercom in the wall, reporting that she had visited Jaha's room and saw that Jaha was dead. And she told them that Kane was the last person she had seen leave Jaha's room.

That night, Jaha was reported dead. He was carted off to the airlock to shoot his body out into space and not waste oxygen by burning him. Getting rid of bodies by airlock instead of fire had always been the Ark's way. Fire needed oxygen and there was no option for that. A warrant was put out for Kane's arrest and Kane was arrested an hour after Jaha was pronounced dead and his body disposed of.

As Jaha's body was shot out into the cold vacuum of space, Kane was cuffed and brought to a skybox, eventually to be executed in two days for treason.

As soon as Kane was arrested, Callie and Abby were considered widely by the people of the Ark to be the two biggest possible candidates for chancellor.

Back on Earth, morning came and the group that had settled down in the houses got up and got their belongings together and sat down at the table in the house that Niylah, Monroe and Clarke slept in and brought smaller tables over so that everyone could sit down and eat.

Clarke wanted to get walking, but Monroe pointed out that they needed food. They'd need their strength to keep walking, so Clarke nodded, but was still ever watchful of everyone who wasn't Wells.

Monroe checked the stove's burners. Yes, the gas worked still. No need for the fireplace this time.

Now they just needed to get some food.

Clarke ordered that Monty, Jasper, Finn, Pascal, Trina, Fox, Harper and Monroe stay inside the house. And that Monroe was the one in control in her absence. No one seemed to argue.

Clarke took Wells and Niylah with her into the forest to look for food. As much as Clarke wanted to taunt Monroe some more, she knew that she needed to be pragmatic. Niylah knew the ground better than her. So she'd know what flora was edible.

Clarke knew enough about the animal life on the ground to know what was poisonous and what wasn't. But she didn't know as much about the plant life. Wells was better at biology than she was, but it didn't change that Earth had changed a good deal. That was where Niylah came in.

"Tell me where to find food in the plants, Niylah." Clarke said, finding it strange that she hadn't said it as an order. Just as a statement.

Niylah nodded. "Follow me." She told both teenagers and Clarke and Wells trailed after her.

Eventually, between the three of them, they were able to gather enough nuts, non-poisonous berries, killed a couple of non-venomous snakes, and gathered enough fruit-surprisingly a lot of fruit grew in Florida-to have a big meal. Clarke doubted that a good portion of this fruit was native to Florida, but she wasn't complaining. She, Wells and Niylah gathered enough blueberries, blackberries, apples, starfruit, bananas, guavas and jackfruit to give them a good, substantial breakfast.

Carrying most of the fruit in baskets Niylah had crafted from bark and twine from vines, and carrying the snake meat back, they brought the breakfast to the house. When they were almost five feet away from the house, Clarke asked Niylah one of the many questions that had been on her mind all of this morning.

She wasn't going to ask if Niylah meant all her promises. If someone asked a person if they were trustworthy, both a trustworthy person and a non-trustworthy person would give the same answer. That they were trustworthy. So there would be no point in asking if Niylah meant her words.

No, what Clarke asked Niylah was, "The Shallow Valley people won't mind us asking for some of their boats to take them to South America, will they?"

Niylah shook her head, smiling. "No. That's unlikely. They offer their help to those who need it. And won't judge. Just as long as there is someone on the boats each to sail them back to the Luwoda's territory, they will not mind."

Clarke nodded. She hoped that was the case. She decided then that she would give the Shallow Valley people the benefit of the doubt. For now. But if they got in her way…..Clarke smirked, an unnerving look that both Niylah and Wells noticed. If the Shallow Valley people got in her way, well then, she'd just kill them too.

Because if the Grounders didn't give a fuck about genocide, why should she?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So to wrap up what's happened. Thelonius is dead. Kane's going to be executed and Callie will most likely be nominated as the chancellor. Clarke, Niylah, Monroe, Wells and the others are getting ever closer to the Shallow Valley people. And Anya remembers and isn't going to trust Lexa. So a lot's happened. And the point of this chapter was for Monroe to notice that there is really something wrong with Clarke right now. Which means there's progress to work on.


	14. Wait, that didn't happen the last time!

Breakfast had been eaten quickly and almost soon after they were done, all three Monty, Jasper and Trina were moping about their stomachs hurt, to which Clarke grumbled that they should have thought of that before eating so fast. They prepared to take off. They put out the fire and turned off the stove and blew out the candles they were using. Even if they weren't coming back to these houses, they didn't want to risk burning the forest down. Sure, Clarke had no intention of staying here, but she knew that they needed less attention on themselves, not more. And causing a forest fire would absolutely draw more attention to them, wouldn't it?

As they packed up, Monroe ignored Clarke's morbid comment about how funny it would be if there was a forest fire and almost all of the Luwoda people died. She knew that it was just another barb. Just another shield that Clarke as using to keep other people away.

Thankfully Monroe, Wells and Niylah were the only ones that heard Clarke's comment.

When everyone had all their belongings with them, they left the houses and Monroe smiled at Clarke as Clarke turned around and stared at all the people awaiting her instructions. "Well, Clarke," Monroe said, "Lead on."

Clarke ignored Monroe, but Monroe in no way missed how tense Clarke became at Monroe's beaming. Clarke turned to Niylah. "You know how to get to 'Ney-Wor,' don't you? Show me the way if you want to stay with us."

Clarke's voice was harsh, but Niylah just smiled and nodded. She walked up to Clarke and nodded to the path between a set of trees just next to a berry bush. "Follow me." She said and began to walk. Clarke followed her and so did Monroe, Wells, Fox, Harper, Monty, Jasper, Finn, Pascal and Trina.

They went on, past the overgrown lawns, where the grass had basically become forests and weeds flourished. Dandelions and clovers covered each lawn and each block where there was even a spot of green.

They went past the practical primordial lawns and patches of green with trees and headed on down the streets that were cracked and also showing signs of being primordial, with how many weeds were breaking through and how much moss covered the gravel.

When they were about almost two hours away from the houses, their talking, which had been mostly about their lives back on the Ark and Niylah's life on the ground, their talking started to travel to politics of the Grounders and of the Ark. Clarke laughed when Harper asked her and Wells that they must know a lot about Ark politics because of who their parents were. Clarke had sneered, "Oh yeah, we know so much that we got exiled. Yeah, Wells is Jaha's kid and I'm Abby and the 'traitor,' Jake Griffin's kid. And we know that if you know anything you're not supposed to know, you get thrown down to the ground like you're nothing. Yeah, real good politics."

Finn winced, realizing that they were getting to bad territory. Before he could make a joke and lighten the mood up, Clarke asked Niylah, even though her voice didn't sound that interested, what the politics were with the Grounders.

Niylah either didn't notice Clarke's lack of caring or chose not to speak of it when she talked, "The politics of Polis are brutal as well. But brutal in a different way. There are people known as "Nightbloods," because their blood is black. One is selected whenever one is found, and brought to Polis. And all the Nightbloods are pitted against each other in a fight to the death after the previous Commander dies. The Nightblood that survives the trial, becomes the next Commander."

"Holy shit." Jasper said, looking like he was losing color. The others all looked shocked and some of them had almost stopped walking. Clarke smirked. She knew all this already. None of this was a surprise to her. The battle between the Nightbloods was considered sacred among the Grounders. But it was no different in how brutal it was to how the Ark people locked teenagers away in a skybox, isolating them until their executions came about.

As far as Clarke could see, both the Ark people and the Grounders were savage. And neither group deserved pity or sympathy of any kind. So she would treat them as they deserved to be treated.

Like they were lowly animals. Not even worth her notice.

"Have you told them the best part yet?" Clarke whispered to Niylah, smirking, "About the Nightbloods' age?"

Niylah nodded, a sad smile on her face. She turned back to the rest of their group. "And I'm afraid," She said, "That all Nightbloods are brought to Polis as children. And some of them, when they're set up against other Nightbloods, aren't even thirteen or twelve when their trial comes."

Wells stared at Niylah. Clarke could almost feel the blood running cold inside him. "You're fucking serious?" He whispered. He turned to Clarke and Clarke gave him an unrepentant look.

Wells shuddered. "These are the people we're supposed to trust to get us to somewhere safe?"

Clarke shrugged, "Well, in case you haven't noticed," She said as she jumped down from a log that oversaw a small hill where Niylah was leading them down, landing on her feet next to Niylah along the path that was pockmarked with hoof prints, footprints and wagon wheels, "We don't have many options. And hey, it's either seek them out, or trust our own people, who lock teenagers up until their executions are scheduled. No one's saying that the Grounders aren't assholes. It's just that we have to be very careful about which assholes we trust."

Wells winced. Obviously he saw the complications of their situation. Pascal said, chuckling, "Damn, when did you become such a pessimist?"

Clarke turned a cold look on him, and Pascal instantly lost his smirk. He looked like he was gulping now, realizing he had the dark, cold attention of a hawk on him now. Clarke answered him as Trina shifted closer to Pascal, "Just trust me when I say that I know what I'm talking about. Believe me, I've had time to figure things out."

She turned around and followed Niylah and the other followed still. Clarke yelled back to Pascal, keeping her rifle ever closer. "Either way, either stay with us and get to the boats so that we can get to South America and find safety, or stay here and be left behind and make your own way. I really don't care what choice you make. It's up to you."

Monroe smirked at Clarke's cynicism. She personally found Clarke's current mood refreshing. People like Bellamy, Murphy, Jasper, Pascal and Finn tried to make light out of everything.

As if their lives weren't in danger all the time. Clarke's warnings, both in the previous timeline and in this one were a good thing. You either accepted reality and acknowledged that there were people out to kill you, or you ignored the warnings and you died. That was all there was to it. And those laughing it off and asking why people couldn't be more "optimistic" were part of the problem. Because they were ignoring the danger.

It was actually very simple. Be cautious and do what you had to do survive or die. It really wasn't that hard.

Monroe really didn't get why that was so hard for people to get. Even before the previous timeline had ended and this one had started or however the hell this whole other dimension shit happened, she knew that the important thing was doing whatever you could to help people survive. That was why she had always helped. Always. Maybe she hadn't known the best way to help. But she had helped. Now that she knew more, she could help better.

Her eyes stayed on Clarke's back as she and Wells followed Clarke and Niylah. "How far are we from the Shallow Valley people?" Monroe asked Niylah.

Niylah turned to Monroe. "Only another hour."

"Great." Jasper grumbled. "My feet are starting to hurt."

Monroe noticed Clarke glaring over her shoulder, trying to aim her glare at Jasper. Monroe said fast before Clarke could say something awful again, "Just hang in there a little longer, Jordan. We don't exactly have a lot of options, alright? The rest of the 100 were captured by Grounders and we can't go back to the place we were before. This is our only option. So unless you have a better one, just keep walking, got it?"

She turned her glare to Jasper. Jasper looked surprised by her order, but he eventually nodded and turned his head away from her, bashful.

Monroe turned to Clarke. Clarke seemed surprised, and looked like she wanted to say something, before turning away from Monroe too. Monroe smirked. She didn't expect gratitude, and didn't think Clarke would give it either. Besides, Monroe didn't want Clarke to think she owed her anything. Because Clarke sure as hell didn't. If anything, it was everyone else that owed Clarke.

They kept walking, reaching a few roads where there were a bunch of abandoned cars with broken and cracked windows and windshields and back windows. One car had an actual branch right through the destroyed sunroof and the branch was sticking all the way into the back seat.

"Damn," Pascal said as they went by the cars, "Hope whoever had these cars got away before the bombs hit."

No one said what everyone was thinking. That it was unlikely that the people got away. Not if they were driving around as if nothing was wrong. But thankfully, they didn't see any bodies or skeletons.

All the roads that they found were all cracked and weeds, dandelions and other kinds of shrubs were growing through those cracks.

"Guess someone forgot to hire someone to mow the lawn." Jasper said, trying to make a joke, one that made more people than just Clarke and Monroe groan at the dumbness of that joke.

A few birds flew by, chirping noisily. They saw a couple of deer walk on. They had eaten a heavy breakfast, so they had no need to eat again this soon. Clarke checked her watch every now and then, deciding that they could probably grab food before entering the Luwoda's kingdom. Probably best to try to negotiate with a bunch of fucking Grounders after one has eaten, right?

Clarke tried to ignore her resentment. The Grounders. Just like the rest of the 100, they were like thorns in her side. Always picking a fight. She had remind herself for the last time that the Luwoda weren't the Trikru. The Trikru were the ones that gave her trouble last time. Not the Luwoda.

Still, knowing that they were getting closer to a land that belonged to Grounders, was enough to make sweat begin to fall down her back. It was enough to make her tighten her hands around her rifle to the point of pain beginning to hit her hands.

She had to keep in mind that these Grounders weren't the same as the Trikru. Besides, they just needed the Grounders to give them the boats. After that, they wouldn't have to have anything to do with a bunch of rotten Grounders.

When they were a mile from the Luwoda's territory, according to Niylah, Clarke said that they should get food before approaching an entire tribe. Niylah, Wells and Monroe agreed and so everyone else did.

They stopped and stayed near a small, flowing river, next to a series of trees and bushes.

Niylah pointed out several pine trees and told them that the pinecones offered nuts in each kernel of the pinecones. Clarke nodded and told everyone to start picking pinecones.

People started climbing the trees and pulling pinecones off the pine tree branches. Niylah said that the biggest pinecones belonged to the "slash" pine tree. The other two small pinecones were from different pine tree types. So people gathered more pinecones from the Slash pine trees as they could, since the pinecones from those trees would be bigger and so would have more pine nuts.

After picking as many pinecones as they could till there were several piles stacked up, people started to pick the nuts out of the pinecones.

"You sure these are safe?" Jasper asked, looking at the strange pinecone in his hand.

"Sure," Clarke said, pulling off a few of the pine nuts. "Unless you're allergic to pine nuts, then it should be safe."

Clarke remembered that many of them had eaten nuts before. Many different types of nuts. And no one had experienced an allergic reaction. Which meant unless Pascal or Trina had an allergy, no one here had any allergy that they needed to worry about.

After eating the bounty from the pinecones and watching her companions eat their bounty too, and making sure that no one had any allergies, they then went to the river and worked on catching some fish. Clarke and Monroe, given their experience, caught the fist almost instantaneously. The wriggling bodies thrashed around as Clarke held her fish's tail tightly and while Monroe kept her hands squeezed around the middle of her fish.

Jasper, Finn and the others gaped and applauded. Monroe smirked, but Clarke rolled her eyes and just tossed the fish onto the grass for Wells or Monty or Pascal to grab it since the three of them were closest to it.

Niylah, given she had lived on the ground and had survived not just by hunting and gathering, but by fishing as well, caught more than one fish in only a few minutes. By the time six minutes were up, Niylah had caught five with her long knife, impaling them easily.

When all seven fish were placed next to each other, Niylah began building the fire, putting a stone circle around it and building up the sticks in a pedestal for the fish to be impaled on and cooked on. Niylah rubbed the stick between her hands against a piece of moss on a flat piece of bark and blew on the small, beginning flames.

Niylah brought the on-fire moss and wood slab to the fire pit and allowed the fire to feed on the jumble of sticks, moss and leaves that she and the others had gathered.

When the fire was big and roaring, they brought their stuck fish to the flames and watched as the fish gradually cooked.

They took the fish off the fire after a few minutes and made sure that the fish were effectively cooked and safe enough to eat. They finished eating the fish after a few minutes, their hands and mouths all flecked with small bits of burnt fish skin and meat. Some of them needed to pull the long, thin, white bones out of the fish to avoid choking on them. Clarke occasionally looked at Jasper hopefully, to see if he'd choke or not. To her displeasure, Jasper didn't choke.

She lowered her head, focusing on her fish, trying to ignore Monroe giving her a displeased look.

She was probably going to hear about it later. Whatever. Clarke scowled as she kept eating her fish.

After they were all done and they tossed the bones, tails and bits of the head back into the grove and Niylah and Finn smothered the fire with dirt, they washed their hands and face with the cold water from the river.

They gathered their things and started walking again. When Clarke and Monroe were just behind Niylah, Monroe whispered to Clarke, "Hoping Jasper would choke on those fish bones, huh?"

Clarke smirked. "Caught that, huh?"

Monroe nodded. "Hard to miss. I could practically hear you hoping it would happen. What part of, Jasper has a new chance, do you not seem to be getting here?"

Clarke glanced back at the others behind her, making sure they were out of hearing range. Wells was between them and the others and she and Monroe were speaking softly. She turned back to Monroe. "And what part of 'he'll betray us as soon as it's convenient for him,' don't YOU understand?"

Monroe shook her head. "We don't know that yet. Just wait. Give him a chance. He might become brave and loyal."

Clarke snorted, smirking. "Sure, right. And maybe the Trikru will happily cheer and chant 'love and peace' instead of being war mongering assholes."

Monroe chuckled, smiling. "Well, maybe that won't happen. But still, give Jasper a chance. Since he is safe now, because you made sure he was safe, he might change. I promise, as soon as he starts looking like he's going to be untrustworthy? I'll deal with him myself. I promise. But in the meantime? Please don't harass him. Just give him one more chance."

After a few minutes of walking and eyeing Monroe, Clarke sighed, "Fine. One more chance. One more. That's all."

Monroe nodded, smiling. "Thank you, Clarke."

Clarke snorted, but said nothing as she walked.

Along the shores of the Trikru's land, Onya had awakened her warriors after they spent the night in tents and furs, sleeping. They then went and joined Leksa's group by the sea. Leksa, who had been checking the footprints she found just before those footprints reached the sand where they would be swept away by the salty waters.

Leksa saw Onya riding on her horse, bringing the rest of her warriors over. "Onya?" Leksa asked, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

Onya looked at Leksa, trying to keep her true emotions under control. The anger, the resentment, the distrust. She couldn't allow Leksa to see any of it. She would have to be very careful in how she did this.

"We have searched everywhere in the north and south, Heda," Onya answered, leaping down from her horse. "We haven't found them. Which makes me think that they've fled this land."

Leksa tried not to groan. "I suspected as much." She answered. She turned to look out at the sea. Where was Klark? Where were the people she had taken with her?

Leksa went closer to the water, then turned to Onya. "Good work." She said. "But I want you to come with me to the Niylah's uncle's place. He said that they took boats. And that it was down to the lower tribes. I think that means they went to the Shallow Valley people. I don't know why."

Onya's eyes widened. The Luwoda? Why would Klark go there? What would Klark get out of going to the Luwoda people? A thought then came to her. There was one thing that the Luwoda people had in common with the Floukru. They both were very equipped with boats. The Podakru did too. But the Podakru had row boats and smaller vessels than actual battleships. The Floukru had fishing boats. But nothing like what the Luwoda had. They used their boats to go travel to the islands around their land. Klark had told Onya what the people before the bombs fell had called those islands. The tribes of this world called those islands "Ansee Gavi," which meant "unattached isles," since the land masses weren't attached physically to the mainland.

But Klark said that the islands in the old days had used to be called the "Virgin Islands." And the other two islands, for some reason had not been called the Virgin Islands, according to Klark, but had been called "Alaska" and "Hawaii."

Could Klark and the people she took with her fled to one of those islands? But why? Onya frowned. Could it be that Klark remembered too? If so, that explained why things were so different. Klark and the people she took with her being gone for this long, that hadn't happened before. Niylah going with them, that hadn't happened before. And the Commander ordering the 100 captured, that hadn't happened before either.

Things were happening differently now, were happening because some people and only some people remembered what happened the last time.

Onya sighed. Klark had fled. That was an unfortunate realization that Onya had come to. To one of the Ansee Gavi. Or further than that.

Onya however realized that there was one place they could go to in order to seek information about where Klark might have gone to. The Luwoda. They needed to seek the Luwoda out. Because there was no indication that Klark and the people she had taken with her had gone to the Floukru, they probably had gone to the Luwoda. Which meant that that was where Onya, Leksa and their people were going to search now.

Onya stood just behind Leksa, eyeing the younger woman. Leksa was one of the reasons why Klark most likely had fled. Leksa had left Klark's people to die in the mountain. If Klark had chosen to abandon her original goal, which was to seek peace with the tribes, then Leksa's actions no doubt were one of the reasons why.

Onya still remembered how Klark acted after she had been found by the Azgeda prince, Roan and had been brought to Polis before Leksa and Onya so that they could have the Sky People join the colition.

Klark had been angry. No, angry wasn't the right word for it. Klark had been almost on fire with how enraged she had been. Klark had almost struggled out of the guards' grip when she had made a lunge for Leksa, screaming and snarling about how she was going to kill the Commander of the twelve tribes.

Klark had exploded. And around Onya, Klark was not much better. She spat at Onya for making excuses for Leksa's actions. Onya knew there was no excuse now. She, Leksa and the rest of the tribes should have stayed.

It was their fault now that Klark had fled. Onya looked out at the water where Klark and the others had gone away on the boats. They had gone to the Luwoda for their ships, most likely.

Which meant the Luwoda was where they must be headed now.

Leksa turned to Onya and yelled her command so everyone could hear, yelling in Trigedasleng, "Gather every warrior in your armies! We are marching for the Luwoda now!"

In Florida, near the Luwoda's land, Niylah, Clarke, Monroe, Wells, Finn, Monty, Jasper, Fox, Harper, Pascal and Trina walked along the shrubs, long grass, moss and cracked gravel and damaged concrete, passing trees and bushes, they closed in on a big gravel road with many cracks running along it.

Niylah said that this was the way to the Luwoda's kingdom. As they walked, they all were forced to turn to Clarke when her radio was screaming with static.

Clarke pulled the radio off her pocket's hem and brought it to her face. "Hello?" She asked into the radio.

There was more static, then Callie's voice came through the speaker of the radio. "Clarke? Clarke, sweetie, are you there?"

Clarke's eyes widened when she heard Callie's voice. Why was Callie responding and not Abby?

"Callie?" Clarke asked, looking at Wells, Wells looking really confused too. "Is that you? Where's Abby?"

A snort surprised Clarke, "Abby? Like she's ever done anything reliable. Listen, you need to know what's going on. Wells deserves to know. Thelonius Jaha is dead. Kane killed him. Pulled his wires and cords out while Jaha was recovering. Kane killed Jaha. And Kane's going to be executed tomorrow for the chancellor's murder."

Clarke stared at the radio in disbelief. What the-?

She looked at Wells. Wells's eyes were wide. His mouth moved as if he was trying to speak, but Clarke didn't hear anything. Like Wells's breath was frozen in his mouth or throat.

Clarke turned to the radio again. "I'm sorry, Callie, maybe you can repeat that." Clarke said weakly. "Thelonius Jaha is dead? And Kane killed him? Kane is going to be executed tomorrow?"

There was more static, then Callie's voice answered, "That's right. That's just what I said, Clarke. I know this must be a huge shock to both you and especially to Wells. I'm sorry. But I'm going to be running for chancellor with Jaha dead and Kane to be executed. God, I don't know how this happened."

Clarke stared at the radio. "Neither do I." She whispered. Slowly, Clarke stared at Wells, then at Monroe. Next to Monroe, Finn, Monty, Jasper, Harper and Fox all looked stunned. They couldn't believe what they had just heard. The man responsible for locking them up for months to years was now dead. How were they supposed to feel? And Kane was going to be executed. And Callie was going to be chancellor now? How had all of THAT happened?

Clarke met Monroe's eyes and she could see the same look in the braided girl's eyes. That same thought that screamed, "This didn't happen before. So how did it happen NOW?"

Something had changed. Something had changed to set off the events that were happening on the Ark now. But what was that something?

Then Clarke knew. It was her. As always, it was HER. She had been the change. She had spoken on the radio to her mother and had yelled at her. She had told the Ark people about Jaha being shot by Bellamy and about Bellamy taking off the wristbands. She had told everyone about Raven being needed.

And she had made it very apparent that they needed to do what they needed to do. In other words, she might have inspired someone-Kane to commit murder.

Had she done this? Clarke stared dumbly at the radio. Had she inspired Kane to commit murder? She had to have. This hadn't happened before. She had been the changing factor. Which meant that SHE had been the big difference. And she had gotten someone on the Ark to commit murder. She had inspired Kane to commit murder in order to solidify his place as the Ark's chancellor.

Clarke felt a small, weak laugh come out. It looked like Kane's efforts had backfired. Instead of making himself the new chancellor, he was going to be executed for his efforts.

Clarke asked Callie, "When tomorrow is Kane going to be executed?" She asked.

Callie answered, "Around 2 o'clock. They'll cast a voting ballot today. That's our only chance to decide whether Kane can live or not. If a chancellor is put into power who says that Kane can live. That's why I need to speak with you. Abby and I are the two options for who are going to be potential chancellors. And if one of us wins, we need to know from you and Wells especially what should be done with Kane. Jaha ordered your father's death, Clarke. But he was also Wells's father. What should be done about Kane?"

Clarke felt breathless now. Both Thelonius Jaha and her father were dead. She and Wells were practically orphans. And Kane was going to be executed soon, unless she and Wells chose otherwise.

Clarke looked at Wells. "Wells, what should we-?"

Wells shook his head. "You know Kane just as well as I do. Him being on the ground won't be good for us. He'll try to take control immediately. He's too dangerous to keep alive."

Clarke almost laughed. Wells was right. That was exactly what had happened before. As soon as Kane had come down with the rest of the Ark, he had tried to assume control. It wasn't until after he realized how dangerous the ground was that he gave control over to her and Bellamy. And even then, Clarke never trusted him.

Now, being as aware as she was, and trusting so few people, she could safely say that Kane could join the ranks of those she was icing out. So Kane was to die. Maybe that was a good thing. If Kane died, there would be less people to try to take power from her. That was a good thing. For her, most definitely.

"Are you sure you don't want him dead because he killed your father?" Clarke asked.

Wells snickered, shaking his head. "No. My father is-was a madman. He didn't see people when he sent a hundred prisoners to Earth. He saw guinea pigs. I'm okay if he dies. But Kane will definitely try to take control. And he's almost as bad as my father was. He needs to be stopped.

Clarke nodded to him. "That's your decision?"

Wells nodded. "Fuck Kane."

Clarke snickered and turned to the radio, noticing Monroe's smirk at Wells's words. She noticed Finn, Jasper, Monty and the others were all gaping at Wells at his blunt words. Clarke spoke into the radio. "We've made our decision. Kane dies."

There was silence, then Callie's voice came through. "Understood. Kane will die. Thank you for your input, the both of you. I love you both. Just hang in there. We'll come down and help you. This mechanic you told us about, Clarke, Raven? Raven Reyes? I think I know who you're talking about. I'll get her on the radio when I get into contact with her."

Clarke smiled and said, "Thank you, Callie. Tell me when you have her on hand, please."

As the radio went quiet, Clarke put it back onto her pocket's hem and looked at the others. Jasper was pale. "Holy shit." He mumbled.

Clarke nodded to him. "No kidding, Jasper." She said, snorting. She turned to Wells. "Can you believe this?"

Wells said, eyes looking incredulous, "Well, that's good for us, right? I mean, my dad would have wanted to charge everyone with their crime as soon as he got down to the ground, which means he would have been too dangerous. And Kane would have controlled us as soon as he got down. So as far as I can tell, both of them dying benefits all of us."

Clarke sighed. They had become so chaotic that they assumed that people dying, people they knew, was better for them than anything else. Man, how fucked up did they have to be to make those decisions?

She smirked. It really WAS hilarious. It really was. She grinned darkly as she looked at Wells. "Well, two more obstacles out of the way."

Wells chuckled, smirking. It was official by both their calculations. They were fucked up.

No matter. If being fucked up was what they needed to get what they needed done, then fucked up would be what they would be.

Finn said, disturbed, "You're just going to let this 'Kane' guy die?"

Clarke turned on him, eyes dark and was about to tell him that he could take his moralizing and shove it, when Monroe turned to him first and spoke.

"You don't know Kane very well, do you, Collins?" Monroe asked the tracker, drawing his attention. "Kane was second only after Jaha when it came to the opinion that a group should be sacrificed for the good of the many. Which means in this case, that he would have floated as many people as he could, just so he could feel safe about a good number of people that would be stable to have on the Ark. If he wasn't about to be executed, he would be running for chancellor and if he got to be chancellor, he would make sure every last one of us were arrested and may even have a good majority of us executed. If not? He sure would want all of us dancing to his tune even though we'd be doing all the work before he got down to the ground.

"I'm promising you, Collins," Monroe said, "We're not missing anything by hoping that he gets floated."

Finn looked like he was contemplating that. Clarke smiled at Monroe, yet again appreciating the braided girl's incite. Clarke wondered if she and Wells should really be the only leaders. She was calling the shots for now, sure. And she wasn't sure she'd trust anyone else besides herself and Wells. But Monroe…it seemed as if she would make a good leader. Or almost leader.

Monroe turned back to Clarke, nodding to her. "Ready to walk when you are, Clarke."

Clarke's smile widened. "Got it. Thanks, Monroe."

Clarke looked to the others and nodded to Niylah who waited for them to join her. "Let's go."

Back on the Ark, Callie turned off the radio, smirking. She looked around her and saw that all the tech people were busy working and turned back to them, getting rid of her smirk. So Kane was to be executed. Already that was a good sign. Thelonius Jaha, one huge threat to her kids-her kids, Callie liked the sound of that, was dead. And Kane, another threat to her kids, was going to be executed tomorrow, if all went well.

That just left the voting. It would be between her and Abby. Already, she had a fair idea of just how much of an advantage she had over Abby in the poll department. Abby Griffin was the Ark's top physician, but she was well known as well as someone who went by the book and believed in floating as a good punishment and as a way of getting rid of overpopulation. She was not a very popular choice, and Callie knew that. Callie, on the other hand, was known to be far gentler and kinder. But also strict. Which was why she knew she would have to save face today when speaking at the speech about what was to be done about Kane.

True, leniency had to be given to anyone who had committed some small, minor crime, like thievery, drug use, drinking while handling equipment, and small brawls. But for more serious crimes like sexual assaults, child molestation, rape, abuse, human trafficking, attempted murder, actual murder and serial killing? No, no. That could not be excused and anyone who committed those acts, could not be spared.

Which was where Callie's stick would come in. She would offer the carrot to anyone who had committed minor crimes, and everyone on the Ark knew that. Which was why she would get the popular vote over Abby. But today, she would have to show that she could also use the stick, where people like Kane were involved.

She patted her hands down along her outfit, making sure that her black vest, black dress pants and black shirt were all spotless and smooth. Sadly, appearances mattered far more in Ark society than people liked to admit. That had been the case back on Earth before the radiation and the bombs came, and it was the case now on the Ark. And unfortunately, she would have to look her best for presenting herself to the people and giving them her speech.

Callie remembered what Clarke had told them over the radio. There were people on the ground. People who actually lived there before the one hundred had been sent down.

Clarke claimed these people were dangerous. How did she know that? Callie's face hardened as she thought about Clarke or Wells being threatened. If these other groups of people had hurt either of her kids, it wouldn't matter to her whether she had gotten elected mainly for being more reasonable than all three Jaha, Kane or Abby. If either Clarke or Wells were hurt by these people, she would unleash every weapon available to her against the ground people.

Callie stepped along the steel floor, going to the door out of this room, looking again at the screen filled with the faces of the one hundred. Clarke and Wells's screens were still showing signs that they were both vital and healthy. They had not yet had their wristbands taken off, and they were still alive. Knowing this was enough to make Callie feel like she could fly all the way to the moon and back and then to Earth without a pod. If there was one thing Callie had learned over the years, giving Clarke and Wells the affection they needed, affection that Wells had been denied by his father and Clarke by her mother, relying only on Jake Griffin and Callie Cartwig to be the parents who gave them love and tenderness, it was that Callie had realized that she could do anything to protect her kids. After Clarke and Wells had been sent down to the ground, being proven to be expendable by Thelonius Jaha before he had been shot, some kind of murderous switch had been pulled in Callie's mind. In her heart, maybe.

She realized when Clarke and Wells had been sent down to Earth and after they had gotten the news over the radio from Clarke that there was someone, Bellamy, who took off the wristbands and wanted the rest of the Ark people to die, and what was more, that there was a whole civilization of people on the ground who were a threat too, that she would have to be ruthless. Even more ruthless than Kane.

And so she had done what she had done to both Jaha and to Kane. Some part of her ached, knowing that she was doing this. Some part of her ached in pain that she was doing this to people that she had known and worked with for years, one of them she had dated for almost three years before becoming fed up with Kane's coldness over how "the few matter more" philosophy kept being brought up by him.

But not only were they people she had known and worked with for years and one of them she had dated for years, but they also had been a threat to the two teenagers that she loved as if they were her son and daughter.

Jackson, from where he was working, said to Callie, smiling, "Callie, good luck, okay?" Callie turned to him. Jackson waved to her, "Just want you to know, no matter what happens, I consider you and Abby both friends. And it's an honor working with both of you."

Callie felt a real smile this time spread. "Thank you, Jackson." She said, meaning it. "It's been an honor to work with you too. And I think of you as a friend too."

Jackson's smile widened and he nodded to her as she left the room. When the doors closed behind Callie, she sighed, walking faster down the hall to the assembly room where the crowds would be gathered to hear her and Abby's speeches. She really did think of Jackson as a friend. And she was honored to work with him. But she doubted that Jackson would feel that way if he knew what she had done to both Thelonius Jaha and was going to do to Kane.

True, having Kane executed for murder was not unforgivable. But having him executed for a crime he didn't commit was something else. But Callie wasn't going to let Jackson or anyone else know that.

Callie really thought then about what she had done. She had killed Thelonius Jaha. And had framed Kane for it. And in doing so, she was going to get him killed tomorrow. Callie felt like she had been punched, thinking about that. She had really changed the moment Clarke and Wells had been sent down to Earth. She hadn't thought that people could change from one day to the next that rapidly. But from this experience, she guessed now that she knew better. Just one event was enough to change a person's entire worldview and morals.

Callie's worldview and morals had been changed as soon as Clarke and Wells had been used as guinea pigs.

It was after things like that happened that the person who changed from their experiences had to decide what to do next with their lives.

After Clarke's message over the radio, Callie had made a decision about what to do with her life. She decided, no matter how long her life was, she would dedicate it to protecting the two children that she loved, Wells and Clarke. Even if she had to break every rule and law there was, she would protect them both. And she knew that that wouldn't be easy if both Jaha and Kane were alive. So she had taken precautions.

She walked across the hallway, hearing the yells and cries of those who already were being very vocal about who they were going to back in the voting.

Callie had a few suspicions about how many votes she'd get, and how many votes Abby would get.

It wouldn't be close. That she was sure of. She couldn't absolutely predict that, but she was sure.

She tried to maintain her calm expression, trying to ignore how troubled her thoughts were when it came to Wells and Clarke. Wells and Clarke, as the stats showed on the screen, were both safe and healthy. There was no need to be scared for them right now. She would be helping them more by being calm and contained and winning votes and becoming the next chancellor, instead of letting her worry for both teenagers to get the best of her and distract her.

She got to the metal doors and when sensor detected her movement, they slid apart, allowing her through. She walked across the room, seeing Abby at a wooden podium where a microphone stood up for her to speak into. Callie nodded to her, forcing a smile. Abby smiled back, but the smile was strained. Callie had made her feelings for Abby and Abby betraying her husband and child very obvious. There was a time when Callie had considered Abby a friend. That time was not now.

If there was a single event that changed a person's view about someone else, then that time had come when Abby had gotten Clarke's father killed and Clarke sent to the ground and allowed her to believe that Wells told Jaha instead of Abby. But as Callie had heard over the radio, that had backfired for Abby. Clarke had found out that it hadn't been Wells that had told Jaha. It almost made Callie smirk, till she remembered that there were crowds of people watching them both.

Callie went past Abby to the other podium that was almost four feet from Abby's podium. She stood behind it, making sure the microphone was at her mouth level and looked ahead at the crowd, smiling and waving.

The announcer, Bill Preston, sat in front of the raised area of the floor, where the podiums and the candidates stood. He flipped his cards over, looking at the questions he was going to ask the candidates. Bill announced into the microphone clipped to his shirt collar, pushing his gray-silver hair past his shoulders, bright blue eyes alight with the events about to take place. "Alright, everyone settle down!"

At his command, people quieted and got ready for the debate.

Bill turned back to the two candidates and started speaking, looking at the cards, "Dr. Griffin, Lieutenant Cartwig, when you're ready, what would you do with this new information that Clarke Griffin has given us about there being people on the ground?"

Callie didn't even bother opening her mouth, knowing that Abby would instantly respond in order to look good.

Abby didn't disappoint. She quickly spoke into the microphone about how she would personally try to make peace with these ground people, so that all their people could live without war or hunger.

That got Abby many cheers, but obviously not as many cheers as she would like. Callie saw many more uncertain faces and heard many more uncertain grumbles in the crowds, than she heard cheers or saw smiles. Callie fought a grin. That wasn't what these people wanted to hear. That wouldn't sell with them. Here was the problem with human beings. They didn't like to share. They were selfish beings. Callie wished she could see human beings as better than that, but if there was one thing that she and Kane had agreed on, and that one thing had been what caused them to start dating in the first place, had been that they agreed that humans were selfish animals.

And it was the truth. Yes, Callie hoped that there could be a place for everyone, but the truth was that human beings were selfish. Territorial. They liked "owning" their own land and not sharing with people.

Having to share land with people already on the ground was not going to sell with them. Definitely it wouldn't sell easily. And maybe even more importantly, there was a very unlikely chance that these ground people would share their land and resources with them. They were human too, were they not? And humans weren't that selfless.

After Abby was done talking, Bill turned to her, ready to hear her answer.

Callie was prepared. "As much as I would like to live in peace with these people on the ground," Callie started, talking into the microphone, "And I promise you, I would like that, we also have to look at this from a realistic angle. Will these people be willing to share the land with us? Would they really be willing to share their resources? Their crops, their cattle, their clean water? I wish that were true, but I'm afraid that we have to look at this logically. If there's a chance that these people won't share with us, we'll have to find our own land. That is why I say we set the Ark's courses for South America. To an unpopulated land, where we'll be safe and have plenty of resources, without needing to worry about attacks or bigotry."

Despite the warning in Callie's words, when she heard far more cheers to her answer and saw far more grins and big smiles she became embolden. She continued speaking, "One of the brave children who are on Earth now, Clarke Griffin, has sacrificed so much to tell us what she has told us. It's because of her that we know who it was that shot Thelonius Jaha in the first place. And that there are those among the one hundred who are taking off their wristbands and that the air is breathable. It's because of her that we know that there are people down there in the first place besides the one hundred."

Callie kept speaking, picking up momentum in her voice, "I hope we can live with these other people, but we have to be practical. We don't know how these people will react to outsiders. We don't know how they'd react to people who are not 'their people.' Which means that we have to take care of our own. This means that our best option is to travel to South America, and trust Clarke Griffin, Wells Jaha and the rest with them join us. We will honor the one hundred's brave efforts, by doing what has been instructed of us. And there, in South America, we will find our new Earth! We will find home of our very own!"

Callie knew that she was talking like a dictator. And she knew that that was unacceptable for when she became the chancellor. She knew she couldn't keep being so conservative. And she wouldn't be. Not when she became chancellor. But she knew what she needed to say to appeal to the masses and get elected.

Her words had the exact effect she knew it would. Cheers and screams of encouragement filled the hall, and Callie pushed down the need to grin.

She felt Abby staring at her, shocked. Callie knew why. She was talking exactly like a dictator. And Abby knew it. And Abby knew that that wasn't like Callie. (Meet the new Callie, Abby), Callie thought to herself, the thought making her sad.

If this was what she had to do to make sure her Wells and her Clarke were safe, then she'd do it.

She knew too that if Clarke and Wells could see her now, they probably wouldn't recognize her. But that was okay. Because Callie would rather Clarke and Wells hate her and be safe, rather than they think she was doing the right thing and be in danger. Idealism alone didn't protect people. Doing the smart thing often did.

Callie remembered Clarke yelling at Abby over the radio. Then again, it seemed like Clarke had gone through some change too after her father had been floated and she and Wells had been abandoned.

That thought was the one that made Callie smile when Preston asked his next question, which was about Kane.

Bill Preston asked, "What would you do about Kane, and his murder of the previous chancellor?"

Abby talked fast when she realized that she was losing the crowd, "I believe that as a murderer, he needs to be punished. But I do not believe that he should be executed. We've lived with death long enough. We can live in this new world in a new era. We don't have to execute everyone. Those that commit serious crimes can get life imprisonment instead."

Callie this time snorted, saying something that she had a feeling would sell well, and would be a hurtful blow to the woman who had abandoned Clarke. "'We've lived with death long enough?' Maybe you should have thought of that before betraying Jake Griffin, one of the most lenient people on the council, to Thelonius Jaha, someone you knew for a fact floats anyone who commits any kind of crime. I don't know, Abby, it feels like I'm getting mixed signals. Anyone else feel like that?"

Callie's sass got two reactions that Callie was going to assume was a 'win.' There were snickers and laughter from a good portion of the audience, gasps from some, but also agreeing nods from those that had gasped. And the other reaction was the gasp she heard from the opposite microphone. Callie looked Abby's way and saw the shock on the blond woman's face. Callie turned to the microphone, seeing that she had another chance.

Callie then decided to throw another blow, "While I agree that we have lived with death long enough, and that there shouldn't be the death penalty for everybody, like minor crimes, what about those that commit greatly heinous acts? What about the human traffickers? What about the rapists? The pedophiles? The domestic abusers that sometimes even kill their spouses or children or both? What about murderers?"

Callie felt encouraged again when she saw all the urgent nods and the looks of agreement on so many faces.

"I believe that all these crimes deserve the heaviest punishment that can be offered." Callie said with conviction, leaving no room for argument, "So what should be done to someone who killed another human being in their sleep?! While he was helpless and unconscious? I say he floats!"

The shrieks of agreement from the crowd made it all too apparent who was winning, perhaps who had already won.

Back on the ground, Clarke, Wells, Monroe, Niylah and the others kept walking. When Clarke saw the various old and damaged, mold covered signs, she knew they were getting close. She saw the castle symbol and the figure of Mickey Mouse with a sorcerer's hat on some of these signs. She suspected that the Grounders had no idea what they meant, but she said nothing about it.

They walked on the road between these many signs and when Niylah pointed at a length of land up ahead, Clarke knew that they were close. Niylah spoke calmly as the sun shined on the wide castle shape up ahead, covered with moss and overgrown leafy vines. "That is the front gate of the Luwoda tribe's land."

"I never would have guessed." Clarke said sarcastically.

Clarke took that time to look at the castle, really look at it, as did Wells and Monroe, while the rest of their group gaped and made gasping noises at seeing it. So she was here. Really here. Her parents had played Disney movies for her all the time when she was a kid, as she was sure that most parents had. When she had gotten older, she had known to look at things more realistically. Even before she had come to Earth the first time, she had become skeptical of the whole "happy ending stuff." Now? Now she felt like any happily ever afters were nonexistent. They weren't real. Not for her they weren't, anyway.

She had given as many chances as there could be for a happy ending. She didn't trust anyone who said that there was one anymore.

Clarke turned to Niylah. "What should be our first action here?" She asked the Grounder. "How should we approach the Luwoda? Should we let you go first so you can speak with them? None of us know their language."

Niylah nodded. "Yes, they have their own language. Luwodesleng. They speak Trigedasleng too." Niylah looked back over her shoulder at the rest of the group, past Monroe and Wells. "But I think you don't want it known that you can speak Trigedasleng. So I won't put you in that position." She turned back to Clarke. "I will speak for all of you, if you would like."

Clarke nodded. "Thank you." She said. "Yes, I would like that. I'd like it if you could speak for us. If you could, Niylah." She added, eyes narrowing, "But don't speak Luwodesleng. Speak Trigedasleng. So I'll be able to understand everything you're saying."

Niylah did not react with offense as Clarke had half expected her to. Niylah just nodded, her face still unreadable in that way that made Clarke nervous. Back to when they had first met at Niylah's trading post where Clarke had first started to trade with the Grounder and the Grounder's father, Niylah had remained with that unreadable look whenever Clarke had been ornery in some way. As if she would acknowledge that Clarke was angry, but would not react to it.

It was something that made Clarke self-conscious. Niylah would acknowledge her anger. But not give her the satisfaction of getting upset. It made Clarke realize that Niylah was more composed.

Clarke turned away from Niylah, eyeing the woman cautiously. Niylah smiled at her. "When you're ready, Klark." She said, "I'll approach the gate."

Clarke nodded, huffing out. Niylah was a mystery to her. So was Monroe, come to think of it. And the both of them claimed that they were in love with her. Clarke tried not to laugh. Again, she was left with the question of what to do. Niylah wouldn't touch her until she was eighteen, which was only three months away. And Monroe wouldn't touch her until Clarke made it clear that that was what she really wanted.

Clarke scowled as she started walking, hearing the others' footsteps behind her. What a fucking joke. She finally decided that being the 'good guy' wasn't worth it, and just when she decided that she should have some fun with two people that had a thing for her, one of those two people was too noble to have sex with her when she was only three months away from her eighteenth birthday, and the other person was trying to psychoanalyze her, rather than just get down and fuck.

Fucking great. It was just her luck that when she finally decided to throw her hands up in the air and tell the whole world to go fuck itself, two people were trying to "fix" her. She snorted. (Yeah, good luck with that, Monroe and Niylah), she thought to herself. They would never fix her. They'd never make her trust anyone outside of herself or Wells again. This was a lost cause for the two of them. But she supposed she could have some fun watching what kind of bullshit they were going to go through to try to do it. She almost grinned morosely, thinking about that possibility.

If they thought they were going to fix her, they had another thing coming. She had decided to put up too many walls, distrust too much to let anyone reach her now dark, icy heart ever again.

Niylah walked up and looked up at the castle where Clarke now spotted three people walking back and forth on top of the walls of the castle. Back and forth, like guards looking after the castle walls.

Clarke smirked as Niylah walked ahead and prepared to announce their presence in Tregedasleng. Here it went.

On the Ark, people were busy yelling and snapping at each other as they disagreed with the results, but both candidates on the stage were silent. Callie smiled, already sure of what the result was going to be. Abby was staring at Callie as if the other woman was a stranger. Callie honestly didn't care. Abby didn't recognize HER? Well, the feeling was mutual. Callie wasn't sure she even knew Abby, after what Abby had done to Jake and Clarke. To Wells too, since Wells had only attacked that guard to be sent to Earth to protect Clarke, so he wouldn't even be on the ground, if it weren't for Abby telling Jaha about what Jake and Clarke knew.

Preston gathered all the ballots and thumbed one piece of paper after another. He sat down in his chair at a steel table and put all the paper ballots into the square shaped, metal machine with a screen that would show the results. The ballots went into the machine, disappearing and the machine hummed to life.

The screen of the machine blinked white a few times, then it changed and showed both Abby's face and Callie's face alongside each other and the ballot box right below each picture began to fill up a bright green color, indicating how many votes each candidate got.

Callie watched the screen, trying to seem confident all throughout the process. Occasionally she glanced at Abby, seeing the other woman shift and look uncomfortable. Callie was able to not smirk, which was a surprise to her. Abby really looked like she knew how this was going to turn out. And it wasn't going to turn out in her favor. It really wasn't.

Callie heard a series of cheers and gasps and looked back at the screen where the votes were being processed. Callie finally let herself smirk. As she had thought.

For Abby Griffin, there were 5028 votes. For Callie Cartwig, there were 8167. Callie won.

Callie watched as the people who she presumed had voted for her jumped around, fists pumping in the air and screaming with happiness. Callie slowly turned and smirked at Abby who looked at her, surprised. Callie walked over to Abby and said, smiling at Abby's hurt look, "You won't be able to get away with betraying Clarke or Wells again, Abby." Callie said, feeling the anger that had filled her for days now since Jake's execution and Clarke and Wells's exile begin to leak away. It looked like some kind of revenge had helped heal some of her anger.

Callie turned away from Abby who looked horrified still and looked at the voters who were clapping, almost all of them cheering for her.

One of them began cheering, "Chancellor Cartwig! Chancellor Cartwig! Chancellor Cartwig!"

Soon everyone on the lower level of the floor was cheering the same as him. Callie smiled and spoke into her microphone, "Thank you, thank you all." People began quieting down when they realized that she was going to make a statement. Callie started talking, "Thank you all. I'm honored to be your chancellor. And I will bring change, the change our home desperately needs. But as my first act, justice must be seen through." Callie made sure to make her voice grim and sad when she said the next thing, "Marcus Kane is to be executed. We don't have any time. He is to be executed not tomorrow. But today. Tomorrow we will start anew. But today, we must remove the threats to our people. Starting with Kane."

Callie heard Abby gasp again next to her and she could feel the other woman staring at her in horror. But it was drowned out by all the cheering of the people howling with excitement. As far as they could see, Callie Cartwig being chancellor meant something new and good. She would be far, far more merciful than Thelonius Jaha or Kane ever could be, but she would know when a threat needed to be executed too. As far as the Ark people could see, Callie would be the perfect leader.

And who was Callie to tell them otherwise?

Callie called into the microphone, looking at the guards by the door. "Mr. Richmond! Mr. Carr! Go up to Kane's cell and bring him out. I will come and meet with you by the airlock to oversee Kane's execution in an hour!"

The guard Justin Richmond and the guard Nate Carr both nodded and went out the door, going to the skyboxes where Kane was being held.

Callie ignored the feeling of Abby's staring, not caring that Abby had no idea who Callie was anymore. She would see Kane's execution today, in no less than an hour. Then she would bring the Ark to the ground, in South America, where they could start fresh. And Clarke and Wells and the others would join them.

And then, Callie decided, she would offer Clarke and Wells a chance to be adopted. She was the chancellor now. So what would Abby be able to do to stop her?

Callie knew that some part of her should feel more guilty for what she had done to Jaha and what she was about to do to Kane. But she couldn't feel guilty. Both men were threats. To Clarke and Wells, obviously. But not just to the two of them. They were a threat to their people because of their stupidity.

And for Clarke and Wells alone, Callie was willing to kill both Kane and Jaha, to give Clarke and Wells the home that they deserved. So if someone asked her if she were willing to kill Jaha and Kane also in order to keep her people safe from Jaha and Kane's stupidity, then yes, in a second, she would.


	15. The Luwoda tribe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Own nothing Disney related

They were about to enter the Luwoda peoples' land. This was something new for all of them. Even for Clarke who had done this before, this would be a new thing. She had never been to the Shallow Valley peoples' land before. The only person this wouldn't be new for, would be Niylah. Clarke listened closely as Niylah began speaking in Trigedasleng to the guards on top of the wall of the castle where the gate was located.

Clarke listened to Niylah introducing herself and to the people she had with her. Niylah said in Trigedasleng, "Hello, I am Niylah kom Trikru. These are my companions. They are from the sky. They fled their people who are traitors to the rest of their leaders. The traitors have been captured by Heda. But the Sky people wish no harm to us and so wish to find a way to a new land so that they will not encroach on any other peoples' land. They wish to leave us all in peace. But for that, they need accommodation so that they can get to their new home. The sooner they are helped to their new home, the sooner they will not be in our territory any longer. I ask if you will help us. We are all at your mercy."

Clarke snorted. What sucking up. But when you lived in a stupid, hypocritical society like the Grounder society, she supposed that shouldn't come as a surprise.

Clarke thought about how Niylah and Monroe seemed focused on "fixing her." On helping her. They wanted to try to fix her? Fine. She'd have her fun with it. Every time they thought they were making progress, she'd throw it in their face. Every time they thought that they had gotten her to trust them, she'd laugh at them. She was going to have her fun. Everyone she ever knew who wasn't Wells and Finn and Monty had decided to use her as their personal verbal punching bag? Fine. She'd do it right back.

(But….Niylah and Monroe didn't treat you like that). Clarke felt that thought slice through her brain and she almost growled at it. Damn it. Her conscience. Her annoying, yappy conscience. Her conscience was always a problem. Yap-yap-yap, "I don't think it's right to let Murphy get hanged," yap-yap-yap, "I don't think it's right to leave Bellamy and the rest of the one hundred to die."

Yap-yap-yap, "I don't think it's right to not have peace with the Grounders," yap-yap-yap, "I think we should offer the Grounders a cure for the Reapers if they will make peace with us."

It was that same conscience that always got her into trouble. Every time she tried to appease someone because she felt bad because she had been taught it wasn't the "right thing to do," it backfired.

So who cared? Oh, she was mean and vicious now. Boo fucking hoo. Bellamy could die. Octavia could die. Murphy could die. Kane could die. Abby could die. Lexa could die. Anya could die. Jasper could die. Who actually fucking cared?

So where did Niylah and Monroe play out in all this? In Clarke's new philosophy of saying that the world could go fuck itself, where did the two of them factor in? What did she do about them, if anything?

Niylah and Monroe hadn't done anything to hurt her before. And they hadn't this time either. So where did they fit into all this? Sure, Clarke could have fun with them if she wanted, meaning she could play with their feelings and with their hopes that they were helping her, but would that fit any imagined crime? Out of all the people here, Niylah and Monroe were arguably right there with Wells, Finn and Monty when it came to how much they had helped instead of hindered.

Niylah and Monroe were no Bellamy, Octavia, Jasper, Murphy, Abby Griffin, Kane, Lexa or Anya.

So what decision did that leave her with? Clarke could fuck with Niylah and Monroe all she wanted, but even if she had decided to forsake all of humanity, would the punishment fit? What punishment had Niylah or Monroe earned?

As much as Clarke wanted to embrace cynicism, she knew the answer anyway. None. They hadn't earned any punishment, because all they had done both last time and in this timeline, was help her.

That was all they had done so far. So if she decided to hurt them again and again, what did that mean for her? Sure, she now believed fully in dishing out the hurt to those that had earned it both before and this time around. But what about those who had just helped? If she didn't treat them the same as she treated her dear brother, Wells, what did that say about her? After all, Wells had given a damn about her and so had Finn and Monty. But so had Niylah and Monroe. Lincoln had too. But he had been too much of a liability because of Octavia. But still, that left Niylah and Monroe.

Clarke scowled, turning away from Niylah and glaring at the cracked road as she heard yells in Trigedasleng from the guards, confirming that they'd let them all in. Damn it. Why was her conscience so fucking persistent?

How did one kill their conscience? She had obviously been trying. But even then, it wasn't doing anything but yap-yap-yapping. What a pain in the fucking ass.

She had decided the moment she reawakened back on the dropship and seeing Wells alive and healthy again, that she didn't give a fuck what her father would think of her, so long as she decided to do what she wanted. Hadn't her father tried to do the right thing? And look where that had gotten him.

But even knowing that, still a part of her questioned, why punish those that haven't earn such a punishment? Why not reward their genuine help?

Clarke huffed out. Why couldn't she just decided to say fuck them too? Sure, she could, but then would she do that to Wells? No, of course not. So then why would she do that to two people who were really just trying to help her?

Clarke turned her angry attention on Niylah, as the gates of the castle started opening up. Why did this always have to be so fucking hard?

Almost a foot away, Wells was observing Clarke and turned to Monroe, whispering to her in a voice that he was sure Finn and the others wouldn't hear, "Monroe, help me out here. Clarke wants to find a new home for us and the rest of the Ark, right? What's the deal with her right? I get it, she's angry. And after what you told me, she's got a lot of reasons to be angry. But every time she looks at you or Niylah, it's like she's trying to figure out how she can backstab you."

Monroe smirked at Wells's worried face. "Probably because she IS trying to figure out how to backstab us. I told you, Wells. Clarke's been betrayed. Again and again. What do you think that would do to a person who was willing to trust so much?" At Wells's pained look, Monroe nodded. "Right. It would piss them off. And it would probably make them want to take revenge. Including on people who didn't do any betraying. When someone's been hurt that bad, they start looking for people to take it out on. Don't worry, I'm not offended." Monroe sighed sadly. "I want to help her. Even if she doesn't want me to. She can yell at us all she wants. But she needs help. She's in more pain than anything else."

Wells nodded. He got that. He really did. Every time he looked at his sister's bright blue eyes, he could see the same exact look. Pain. Absolute pain. Like someone had deliberately hurt her, over and over again. It was like all she had experienced in her life had been endless pain. And after what Monroe had told him, he knew exactly why. Clarke hadn't had a hand raised against her, except by Raven when Clarke was trying to figure out who had poisoned the cup when the Ark people and the Grounders had met in a village to make a treaty. But aside from that, Clarke had been absolutely abused by their people. She had been emotionally, verbally and mentally beaten and harmed. Her self-esteem ripped through, her confidence beaten down.

Wells didn't blame Clarke in any way for how she was now. But being this way for a long period of time, couldn't be good for anyone.

"How do you think we should help her?" He asked, looking at Monroe. Normally, he'd be able to argue that he knew Clarke better than anyone and would know how to help her. But this Clarke was new. This was a Clarke he didn't know. This was a Clarke who hadn't spent time around that much when they had reached Earth. He had died almost immediately, as Monroe had told him. By a little, homicidal, ten-year-old girl's hands, no less. And that had left Clarke alone with the monsters that had verbally abused and betrayed her every chance they got.

And so Clarke had been forced to make her own self-defense. Her mental self-defense, which were barbs sharper than any razor-sharp butcher knife he had seen in the kitchens of the Ark.

This Clarke was new, and hard. This Clarke would not accept coddling or sympathetic words. This Clarke needed actions from her allies, not words or sweet, empty promises.

Monroe added as the gates of the castle were brought up so that the gates were totally open and a Luwoda warrior emerged and approached Niylah, "We should expect a lot of smartass comments from her. Hurtful comments too. That's normal for a lot of traumatized people. Just let her be. We'll see how it plays out over time. The important thing is that we focus on making sure our people come down safe and that we're all safe when we're together in South America. And it looks like Clarke's looking out for exactly that goal. So for now, I don't think we need to worry too much. But keep an eye on her."

Wells nodded, agreeing. This new Clarke was unforgiving. She was harsh and even cruel. He doubted that there wouldn't be a problem at some point. But for now, he guessed that Monroe was right. For now they could just keep a lookout.

Clarke heard the interaction between Niylah and the armed Luwoda woman who had appeared and began talking with Niylah. They were both speaking in Trigedasleng, thankfully. So Clarke recognized everything they were saying.

The woman who stood before Niylah, had a head of long, dark brown hair that went past her shoulders. Her eyes were a bright, deep green and her chin was pointed. Her nose was almost hawkish. The woman said in Trigedasleng, in a cold, commanding voice, almost sounding bored as she glanced from Clarke to the others that accompanied Niylah, "I am Tikan kom Luwoda. Third child of our queens' second-in-command. If what you say is true, that you and these people just want safe passage to further lands, then I'll speak to our queens. But if you and these people mean any harm to our people, we will make you regret it."

Clarke fought down a snort. Oh, they'd make them regret it? That was a laugh. Clarke held her rifle close to her chest. She knew she wouldn't be able to kill all the Luwoda with just this rifle. No. But she was sure she'd find some other way. They had explosives and guns with them. And she wouldn't be surprised if there were some machines in the Luwoda's kingdom that had a faulty system. One that could explode. No, no, if Clarke decided she wanted to kill the Luwoda, she'd make every single tribe member of the Luwoda ever regret being born. But that DID remind her. She looked down at her pocket, where her radio hung. She probably should tell Niylah to tell the Luwoda about the radio. She doubted that the Luwoda weren't a bunch of cowardly weaklings that freaked out as soon as they heard a cracking noise of any kind and immediately went on edge, but the possibility of that happening could be reduced if they were warned about any erratic noises. Like the noises this radio made.

Niylah nodded to Tikan and said, "Sha I understand. We are grateful for any hospitality that you might give."

Clarke almost laughed. Almost. Hospitality? Like the Grounders were known for any kind of hospitality. Grounders knew about only one thing. Causing harm to others. That was it. They weren't interested in offering some drinks and bread and meat. They were interested in chopping you up all so they could yell about how much of a hero they were for murdering a bunch of helpless people who had never been trained in battle before. Good luck trying to find hospitality with these people.

Tikan turned and walked to the gates, telling Niylah and the others to follow her. Niylah turned to Clarke and smiled. "Ready, Klark?" Niylah asked. Clarke nodded, but kept her face dark and guarded. She walked over to Niylah.

"Niylah," Clarke said, "Tell them about the radio," She nodded to the radio hanging from her right pocket. "This radio could start making noises any second. And I don't want to risk the Luwoda trying to attack us because of it. Explain to them that this is only a device for communication and NOT a weapon."

Niylah nodded, agreeing with this decision. She walked over to Tikan and spoke in Trigedasleng. Clarke recognized what Niylah was saying again. "There's a device that my companion, Klark kom Skaikru has." Niylah told Tikan, loud enough for the other guards walking over to hear. "It's a communication device. She uses it to speak with her people in the sky. It is not a weapon. It's just a means of communication." Hearing this, Tikan nodded and told Niylah and the others to follow. Niylah walked after Tikan. Clarke followed and Wells and Monroe and the others walked in a small line after them.

Tikan and Niylah walked first through the gates. Clarke was next. Then Monroe and Wells. Then the others walked through. When they were inside the circle of the park, the gate lowered again. Clarke could hear the cranking of the gates closing. She smirked. It sounded just like a cartoon castle doors. She doubted that had been intentional on the parts of the creators of this park. Most likely it had been improvised by the Grounders when they had taken over.

Clarke looked around at the many now ancient rides and attractions that were all around them. There were warriors all dressed the same as Tikan, standing on all the roofs of the ride buildings. She realized that bows and arrows must have been a big thing with this tribe, since she saw where all these men and women were standing and saw how many of them were holding bows and had quivers of arrows slung across their backs or dangling from the belts around their waists.

Their clothing looked like some close fitting, brown, fur vests and fur made pants. Some of them wore leather gloves, some didn't.

Clarke remembered being told about some of the tribes by Lexa and Anya when they had begun their relationship. Because of them, depending on whether they were lying or not, Clarke knew a lot not just about the Trikru, but about the Azgeda, the Ingranronakru, the Sankru, the Trishanakru and the Podakru. But she knew very little about the Luwoda.

From what she remembered, it seemed as if the rest of the tribes didn't like talking about the Luwoda's rulers. It wasn't like the Azgeda, who the rest of the tribes hated and treated like lepers. Clarke got the sense that the Luwoda's rulers specifically were the ones that were feared the most. But she had never learned why. Supposedly all of the Luwoda were sworn to secrecy about the source of their strength, and so were the other tribes. They were not meant to speak of the Luwoda and their power.

She had chosen not to pay too much attention, deciding to chock it up to Grounder superstition. But she had to wonder.

She looked around at the many different buildings where the out of service rides were hosted and at the different statues of the Disney characters that had accumulated moss, weeds, some grass even, on cracked and smudged concrete pedestals. She frowned when her eye caught something strange on the corner of almost every concrete pedestal where the statues were.

Not on every corner and not on every pedestal, but on almost every corner of almost every pedestal, there seemed to be a small shape. It was a statuette. Not the big, heavy statues like the Disney statues, but smaller statues. Little, black, dark red, dark gray and brown figurines that might have been made from metal, stone or wood.

No one from the Ark had ever been to Disney World, obviously. But Clarke had seen her fair share of pictures of the park that her father had saved over from his father's father who had lived on Earth before the bombs and radiation and had gone to Disney World when he had been a child. The pictures that John Griffin had taken for his small son, Brent Griffin, Clarke's great-grandfather might not have been masterpieces, but she had seen enough of them to know that those little figurines on the corner of almost every pedestal had not been there before. Maybe they had been an addition before the bombs and the radiation, since Brent had been the last generation of her blood to be born and raised on Earth, since after he turned forty-three and had a pregnant wife who was seven months pregnant with Lloyd Griffin, Clarke's grandfather, they had escaped Earth when the calamities started. But Clarke wasn't so sure. They just looked too subtle for Disney. Not flashy enough. Not bright enough. Not big enough.

Clarke focused her eyes on the figurine closest to her, on the pedestal of poor Micky Mouse who had had a round ear ripped off. The missing ear was nowhere in sight as far as Clarke could see. But that wasn't what had her interest. What had her attention, was the figurine. Now that she saw it with the sun shining down on where they stood, she could see it a little more clearly. It was dark red. She suspected it was made of stone, but it might have been made out of wood. Whatever it was, it was carved to have wings. Bat wings.

The figurine's face also seemed to be roaring, like the face was full of fangs. The figurine also had a forehead that looked like there were horns. Not big horns, but the brow looked like it was rough, and crested.

Clarke frowned. What the hell were the Luwoda people into?

Tikan said in Trigedasleng, "Come with me. I'll take you to our queens." She began walking and Clarke and the others followed. As they went by the other pedestals with their big, corny, Disney statues, Clarke caught sight of more figurines. Some dark gray, some black, some dark brown and some more dark red ones. All of them had bat wings. All of them had snarling faces. But the figurines' faces all were distinctly different. There was a dark gray statuette on the corner of a pedestal where a Goofy statue stood, that had a round, bald head and pointy ears. Another figurine that was brown, on the corner of a pedestal where Disney's fox version of Robin Hood stood, his metal and plaster and paint bow ripped in half, as was his poor head, had a more feminine appearance-in fact, looking closer at the statuette, from the garments that had been carved onto the figure, the figure was supposed to be female. At least, that was what Clarke read from it.

Other figurines were more masculine and others more feminine. But they all had the same qualities about them. Bat wings. Some horns on their brows. Some horns longer than others. Some with more horns than others. They also all had tails. And fangs.

Many of them had loincloths carved onto them. In fact, they all did. But the females had braziers carved on too. Some of them had what looked like jewelry and weapons in addition to the clothing.

Clarke looked up at the building where "Snow White's" ride was, Clarke recognized it only because of the colorful drawing of Snow White herself and three of the seven dwarves in front of her. The other four had been severely damaged. The metal of the building where the dwarves' bodies were painted on had been dented and their heads were practically nonexistent, since the metal wall in that area had been almost sliced in half. She almost laughed. Poor Happy, Bashful, Sneezy and Dopey. The ride, however, was not recognizable because of its title. There were big letters attached to the roof of the building, right along the roof, but there were letters missing and even more letters that were heavily damaged.

Unless Clarke hadn't been exposed to the Disney movies, she most likely would have only known this building as the building that held "ow ite." How embarrassing.

Clarke noticed more guards next to the buildings. More bows and arrows and some crossbows. Many swords and spiked maces. Some of them even carried whips. The Luwoda people seemed to be made up of a fairly mixed group. Clarke saw many people, both Caucasian and African-American. There were many, many Asian-American people. From what she had learned from Lexa and Anya, all the tribes were heavily mixed. Made up of different languages, different religions, and of course, many different ethnicities. She knew very little about the Luwoda people, but had heard from Lincoln one time that there was a very big portion of people that used to be called "Seminoles" but called themselves now in Luwodesleng, "Gisharl-Istal," which translated to "Proud Warriors."

From the sounds of it, from what Lincoln said of what some of the groups that had joined the Luwoda used to be known as, there was a good majority of Taiwanese-American people and Latino people here too. So this tribe sounded in no way homogenous. That was a good thing, naturally. But if living in the Ark and being on Earth had taught Clarke anything, it didn't matter if there was variety in a society. What mattered was whether or not that variety was respected and what was more, accepted.

You could sing the praise of having a diverse community all you wanted, but you didn't get that praise, unless you proved that you provided equal rights for all citizens of the community, no matter what the difference between the citizens might be.

So the Luwoda people being a diverse tribe wasn't a surprise to Clarke. But she had serious doubts about whether or not all people in this tribe were treated equally or not. She could easily say that they were not on the Ark. And there were definitely discriminations between the Grounder tribes and even within the exact same tribe.

Tikan led Niylah, Clarke and the others through the watchful crowds, Niylah, Clarke and Monroe ignoring the stares. Wells, Monty, Jasper, Finn, Pascal, Trina, Harper and Fox all looked around in awe at the many onlookers watching their movements. Clarke occasionally looked back at the others and saw the looks of shock on their face as they took in the people surrounding them, armed to the teeth and wearing fur and leather clothing.

There being a diverse background or community meant nothing. Clarke's experiences with both the people of the Ark and the Grounders had proven that. It was why Clarke watched these people just as much as Monty, Wells and the others were watching them. Every friendly smile could hide a murderous agenda. Every hand offering friendship could be hiding another hand holding a knife.

So Clarke's eyes stayed on these people as the Luwoda surveyed these newcomers.

The group went past a couple more buildings with rides, ones that Clarke also recognized. Many of the ship shaped and designed carts for people-in the shape and color of pirate ships had been so damaged they practically were compressed into chunks of metal, but Clarke knew what ride this was. The pirate ships were enough to tell her, even without seeing the decapitated letter on top of the roof of the building and the rest of the ride announcing itself as "eter pa flig." Peter Pan's Flight.

The next ride they passed was a damaged beyond repair roller coaster. Clarke couldn't say she knew which one this was. Just that the totally wrecked wooden and steel beams that had made up the roller coaster's tracks. The tracks themselves had a piece of it ripped off. So heaven forbid anyone try to use a roller coaster car on the tracks. They'd have immediately fallen through the hole and fallen to their deaths.

Clarke smirked, thinking about that. She had never been so easily amused by death before. But it was really hard not to feel amused, given what she knew. Life is a bitch and then you die. That was the usual summary of life, right? Unfortunately, what no one told you was that not only was life a bitch, but so were basically every other person you met. The reason why life was so painful, wasn't JUST because of disease, natural disasters and old age. No, life was a bitch too because other people shared that life with you. Other people were the things that made life hard. Life didn't have to be so hard, but human beings made it hard. People pretended that humans weren't the problem all the time by saying, "life sucks." Yes, life sucked. But why did it suck? Did it really suck because magically it sucked, or because other human beings made sure that life sucked? Life didn't have to suck. It was just that other human beings made it impossible for life NOT to suck.

It didn't matter the group of people, Ark people, Mountain Men, Grounders. They all made life impossible.

Clarke somehow was able to keep herself from snickering. If that was the case? Then she'd relish the presence of death. Because why not? If death erased the people that made life hard for her, could she really be upset? Death wanted to take Grounders, Ark people and Mountain Men? Good. Good for death. The Mountain Men hunted the one hundred and harvested their bone marrow? Good. Less pains in Clarke's ass. Murphy, Miller, Bellamy, Octavia, they could all get their bone marrow taken and it didn't matter.

The Mountain Men wanted to kill all the Grounders and take their blood? Good. Less Grounders to deal with. The Mountain Men and the Grounders killed each other? Better still.

Clarke could admit that she had turned into a dark, hard and morbid bitch. She sure as hell wasn't going to deny that. She was a bitch and hated people. Fine. That was fine with her. Because everything else that was happening with the tribes and the one hundred and the Mountain Men, was sure as fuck not her problem anymore.

She had stopped trying to put the band-aides on everyone and trying to change everyone's diapers. She wasn't any morons' mother. So they were on their own. Boo fucking hoo.

Clarke again held back her smirk. She really wondered how it was for Bellamy, Murphy, Miller, Octavia, Kane, Abby, Lexa and Anya not to have anyone clean their messes up for them anymore. Must have sucked ass. Too bad that things sucked for them this time around. She almost wished she could care. Almost. That was funny.

Tikan led Niylah and the others past a new couple of buildings. These buildings caught Clarke's eye. Not because there was anything particularly interesting about the buildings themselves, but because of what stood on top of these buildings. Clarke stared at the strange figures. These were not flesh and blood humans that stood on the buildings' roofs. These were statues. And not small figurines like the ones that had stood on the corners of the pedestals like before. These were full-sized-meaning life-sized statues.

The statues, like the little figurines were very apparently NOT human statues. The statues were light sand colored, but very likely were made out of stone as they appeared to be. They had stretched out, muscled arms, with claws at the end of their hands, bat wings and tails. Clarke stared at these statues as she walked. Really strange.

Clarke obviously was not the only one that noticed these odd statues. Finn mumbled behind her, "What do you think these statues are all about, Jaha?"

Clarke turned to look at Finn and Wells. Finn was staring up at the statues and Wells looked at where Finn was staring. As soon as he saw the statues, Wells looked equally as puzzled by the statues as Finn did. Clarke supposed that she had the same puzzled look on her face too.

"I have no idea." Wells confessed to Finn's question. "Maybe gods that this tribe worships or something?"

Finn looked like he was considering that and nodded at the possibility. Clarke guessed that that might be it. Wells might have gotten it. From what she remembered Lexa and Anya telling her about the different tribes and their cultures and beliefs, each tribe was made up of many different religions, which meant that tribes allowed room for many different beliefs and many different effigies of their gods and goddesses. So then, it wouldn't be hard to assume that these were statues built in honor of their gods and goddesses.

They kept walking, till they reached a very big and very impressive building. It took Clarke only a second to realize which ride this was. When she saw the graveyard full of plaster or Styrofoam, gray gravestones, the black gate around the gravestones and the mansion just behind the field of fake gravestones, she actually felt a laugh almost come out. So this was where the Luwoda's leaders' stronghold was? The Haunted Mansion? Clarke felt like there was a huge joke just waiting to be said. Even when she had willingly and more than happily walked away from all her ghosts, somehow she ended up finding more ghosts.

Seriously, her whole life was a big, fat, fucking joke. Clarke snickered when she heard Wells say dryly, "The Haunted Mansion? That's where we're going? Who'd of thought?"

She heard Monroe say, "Cool," but wasn't sure if there was anything cool about it. Just one more tribe they had to survive till they got a piece of freedom. Nothing else.

Tikan turned to Niylah and said something in Luwodesleng that Clarke didn't understand.

Niylah shook her head. Niylah turned to Clarke and said, "They want us to leave our weapons out here."

Clarke scowled, shaking her head. "No. They say they want to help us, they can help us by letting us keep our weapons. We're in a much more vulnerable position than they are. There are more of them and we're in their territory. So unless they want to do the cowardly thing and leave a bunch of refugees to die, they can."

Clarke added, face hard, "You can tell them those exact words, Niylah."

Niylah hesitated, then turned back to Tikan and told the other young woman exactly what Clarke said, in Trigedasleng.

Tikan tensed and was silent. She then turned to the other guards and told them what Niylah said that Clarke said. Clarke stepped closer to Monroe, feeling anxiety coil around her. Shit. Things weren't going to fall apart this soon, were they?

Clarke whispered to Monroe, "Get ready, we might have to start blowing people up." Monroe nodded, a look of darkness filling Monroe's green eyes, and Clarke almost instantly saw the battle reflexes that Monroe had from trauma of the last timeline. Monroe's hands tensed and her body went ramrod straight. Her jaw tightened and her legs tensed as if she was ready to jump out of the line of a hundred arrows firing at her.

Monroe's hand wrapped around her weapons. Hearing what Clarke had said, Wells and Finn both tensed too, looking surprised. Wells gripped the handgun he had been carrying and wrapped his other hand around the grenade Clarke had given him. Harper and Pascal didn't hear what Clarke had said to Monroe, but they saw how Monroe, Finn and Wells had tensed and were now alerted to the potential danger.

Pascal's hand went to his sidearm that was strapped to his belt, eyes looking around at the many warriors around him, and Harper held the grenades tighter.

Even Niylah, who had been convinced that the Luwoda would help them, slowly carried her right hand to her belt where her machete was hanging and allowed her hand to stay right at the handle of the weapon.

Just when there was a possibility that things were about to take a hard wrong turn, Tikan turned back around and nodded and said something in Trigedasleng that made Clarke almost gasp in relief, "Very well. We'll allow you in. But if there's any wrong movements, we will imprison you fast."

Clarke smirked. That was better than nothing. Imprison? Not kill? That was strange. Usually for Grounders it was 'kill them immediately, even if they haven't done anything yet, because you know they might kill us first, so who cares?' To imprison instead of killing and 'don't bother asking questions later' kind of thing she was used to, was very odd.

Tikan turned back around and led the now smiling Niylah and the very confused Clarke and her relieved group inside the Haunted Mansion.

Back on the Ark, things were going just about as well for Kane as to be expected. His arms were cuffed behind his back and he was being led out to the airlock. His entire body was stiff like a steel rod. Sweat poured down the back of his neck and he kept trying to control his breathing.

He had known there was a possibility that he could get floated when he had been arrested. But he never thought he'd be arrested. He thought he could wait it out till Jaha died and take control of the Ark. And even if Jaha didn't die, he could try to become a more likely candidate for leadership than Jaha during Jaha's hospitalization. He had no idea that Jaha would be killed. And he had no idea that he would be held responsible for it.

How could this have happened? HOW the hell had it happened? He had just been in the room with Jaha and then had left. He hadn't touched any of the wires or tubes attached to Jaha's capsule. How had he died? Last time he had been there as far as he could tell, all the tubes and wires were attached as they were supposed to be. So how had this happened? A thought went through Kane's mind. Wait. He didn't know who had reported him to the guards, but he had been reported only a few minutes after Jaha had died. Which meant whoever had called the guards on him had to have been close by when he had visited Thelonius. So close, that this person, whoever they were, might have actually done the killing. Whoever it was, might have been the one or ones to actually kill Jaha and had pinned it on him.

Kane's stomach turned. He was being framed. And executed. For a crime he hadn't committed.

Somewhere deep in his mind, a vicious voice asked, "Don't you deserve this? For Jake Griffin? and his daughter?"

Kane actually stopped in his steps, but was pushed by the guards. Did he deserve this? Yes. Probably. For Jake and for Clarke and even though he had been sent to Earth for attacking a guard and not for "treason" like Clarke had been, he probably deserved this for Wells too. Kane felt a lump in his stomach. He knew that he might deserve this. But it didn't change that him being floated would be a terrible loss. Not when it came to compassion or his worth as a human being, he knew from a compassionate point of view, he wasn't much of a person, but from a pragmatic point of view, he was.

When it came to figuring out how to keep the human race alive, he was vital. And him dying would be a great loss. He was stopped right in front of the round airlock and Kane felt something incredibly embarrassing happen to his genitals. He felt his member practically shrink up into his body when he saw the airlock. Somehow he had a feeling that it would be far less embarrassing just to have a heart attack, but his body wasn't that kind to him, it looked.

The airlock. The same one that Jake Griffin had been flushed out of only a week ago. Kane supposed this was justice. But it didn't stop the sweat from pouring down his body. Or the way his heart kept racing.

He heard footsteps and he turned around, hearing the doors of the room open up again. Callie Cartwig came walking through, a somber look on her face. "Hello, Kane." She said, pain in those kind, dark brown eyes. "I wish we could see each other under better circumstances right now."

Kane nodded, smiling weakly. "You're right about that. So, you won the election?"

Callie nodded. "Abby got far more votes than I thought she would, but I was the one that got most of the votes. I guess I just said what they wanted to hear. Politics is such a poisonous game."

Kane groaned, nodding. She wasn't wrong. Politics was just the same as poison. You played the cutthroat politic too long and eventually you stopped being able to see people, but bargaining chips. And instead of individuals, masses. And in the end, you were left with a choice. Sacrificing the few for the many. Or in a twist, sacrificing the many so that the population was stable and the few survived. It really was poison.

Kane stared at Callie sympathetically. He had to wonder if Abby would have ordered his execution. It sure as hell would probably be fitting. But he wasn't sure he could picture Abby going through with his execution. "Callie," Kane said, looking at his former girlfriend and wondering if she still felt anything for him, "Tell me, do you really think I could have killed Thelonius?"

Callie winced and Kane felt hope grab him. Hope was too cruel, because even if seeing Callie doubt his guilt, it probably wouldn't change his fate. Callie said, a guilty look on her face, "I don't know, Kane. I don't know what to think. What I know are the circumstances. You were seen coming out of Thelonius's room and then Thelonius was reported dead. I'm sorry, but the circumstances are very damning. And so is your ambition, which everyone knows about."

Kane felt like Callie had already floated him with those words. She was right. His ambition and the circumstances, Jaha dying as soon as Kane had left the room-it was all fairly damning.

It hadn't helped either that Kane had been quiet during all of Jake's prison time and during his execution.

He hadn't wanted Jake to die, but he had realized that Jake's death was nothing to be stopped. Nothing would stop Thelonius from doing it. And Jake's attempts to tell the rest of the Ark about the flaw would have caused riots anyway.

"Callie," He said, breathing hard, "Even if you think that I did this, can I ask you something? Can you forgive me for everything?" He met Callie's eyes again, pleading.

Callie smiled, still looking sad. "Kane, I can forgive you for a lot. For your unforgiving of many criminals. For not helping those that were scheduled for execution. For not helping Jake. For possibly killing Thelonius. But for not trying to stop Clarke and Wells from being thrown to Earth where they'll be in constant danger? That, I can't forgive, Kane. I'm sorry."

Kane shuddered. He knew he should have seen that coming. Callie loved Clarke and Wells. As if they were her own daughter and son. Kane loved them too. But he wasn't a fool. He loved them, but his love for them wasn't going to keep him from potentially having both teenagers for the good of the entire Ark. That was where he and Callie were different. It wasn't that Callie wouldn't kill two people that she loved to protect the rest of the Ark, it was that that would be one of the last options for her. She would look at every other option available first before killing the people she loved.

But it took nothing for Kane to make that decision, didn't it? Even if he hadn't killed Thelonius Jaha, him not helping Clarke and Wells was damnable enough, wasn't it?

His not helping Clarke and Wells, that was one thing that Callie couldn't forgive. Everything else, maybe. But not Clarke and Wells. Kane felt his heart drop. He understood. It hurt, but he understood. Callie was right. She was right that that was the one thing that couldn't be forgiven.

Even if he hadn't killed Thelonius Jaha, didn't he deserve to be executed solely for not protecting two teenagers, two children who he and Callie had practically helped raise?

Kane felt his head nod almost against his will. "Do it." He mumbled, pain on his voice. "It's okay, Callie." He stared at the floor. "Do it. I think I might just deserve it."

Callie shook her head. "You don't. But I don't know if it's safe for you to still be around when we get to the ground. I don't know if you're a safe influence around Clarke and Wells."

Kane again felt like Callie had hurt him without even trying. He hated to say it, but Callie was right about everything she was saying. If he wasn't floated and brought to Earth, what could he offer Wells and Clarke? Nothing, except for conflict, bad memories of Jake's death, and constant questioning of their actions.

He was going to be floated. That he knew was inevitable now. But he almost felt happy for it. It was weird, but Callie telling him what she told him had in a way, freed him. He didn't have to keep grabbing onto hope or assuming that he didn't deserve this. There was no struggle. Kane felt the sweat on the back of his neck begin to dry and felt his heart slow. Was this how Jake had felt before his execution? He remembered the guards mentioning how calm Jake had behaved before he had been floated. Like he knew everything was going to be alright. No, he didn't feel like that even the slightest. But he felt markedly calmer than he had just seconds ago.

Kane lifted his head and stared at Callie. No matter what happened, he was sure that the right candidate had been made chancellor. Kane smiled at Callie. "You'll lead our people well, won't you, Callie?"

Callie smiled sadly again. "I promise I'll try to the best of my abilities, Kane. I'm sorry you couldn't be there with me."

Kane nodded. "I am too. But Callie? Promise me something. Be careful. There's someone out there who killed Thelonius. I swear it wasn't me. I don't know who it was. But it wasn't me. Maybe it was the same people that got that punk, Bellamy to shoot Thelonius. But either way, they're still out there. Be careful."

Callie nodded, looking grim. Kane felt some relief. Even if Callie believed that he had killed Jaha, she knew that there were still people out there that had been involved with Thelonius's eventual death.

"Are you ready, Kane?" Callie asked, her voice sounding unemotional, but Kane was guessing that Callie felt like if she allowed any emotion in her voice, she would have cried.

Kane nodded. "I guess I have to be ready." He laughed quietly.

Callie turned to the guards and nodded to them. One guard put their hand on Kane's right arm and another guard grabbed his left arm and pulled him to stand right in front of the airlock, his back to it, facing Callie.

He grimaced. It was fitting, he realized, that he was being floated when so many had been floated before him and he hadn't stood up for them. This was a fitting end for him. Jake, Clarke, Wells, they all had tried to reason with Thelonius Jaha. But Jaha hadn't listened and neither had Kane. This was a fitting end. Kane wasn't sure he found a semblance of peace knowing that, but it was something like that. He smiled at Callie. He knew that Callie would protect their people and lead them.

"Goodbye, Callie." He said, knowing he probably wouldn't want anyone else as the chancellor.

Callie nodded to him, still looking sad. "Goodbye, Kane. We won't forget you."

The guards escorted Kane out of the door, into the shuttle where the airlock door was. The door separating the airlock door and the room where Callie and the other guards were closed and Kane was alone in the room, the airlock just behind him.

The door was tightly shut in front of Callie, keeping the vacuum of outer space from coming into the rest of the Ark.

The airlock door opened. Callie held her breath as she watched the door open up. Her guilt was only a little healed at seeing how calm Kane looked. Apparently he had come to terms with what was about to happen to him. To be fair, she guessed that he had to. The airlock door was wide open and as soon as it was, Kane was sucked out in only a second. Callie winced at the force that was involved with Kane being sucked right out. It was terrifying. One second Kane was standing there. The next second, he was flown right out of the airlock, lost in the blackness of space, flying backwards like a fly that had been swatted.

No matter how many times Callie had seen this happen, she never got used to it.

The airlock door began to close and Callie tried to ignore the turning in her stomach. It was what had had to be done. Kane was too dangerous to be allowed near Clarke or Wells or allowed to go to Earth at all.

Callie turned away from the now empty airlock pod. This was for the best. For her, for the Ark and definitely for Clarke and Wells. Besides, she had gotten permission from both her children. Both Wells and Clarke had said that it was alright if she executed Kane. What was done was done.

Callie nodded to the guards and said, "Thank you, gentlemen. You've done well." They saluted her and she walked down the hall. When she reached another empty hall, she smirked. It felt like she had been holding the smirk back for ages. It had taken her a good portion of strength not to tell Kane what she had done. She wouldn't have had to worry about the guards hearing her. She would have whispered it in Kane's ear. But she had known better than to even do that. Sure, she would have liked the satisfaction of tormenting Kane, allowing him to know that Thelonius's real killer was the new chancellor. But Clarke and Wells's safety was more important than Callie's feelings of satisfaction. She could enjoy her pettiness later.

Right now, she decided, she had to track down the mechanic, Raven Reyes. There was a flaw in the Ark's system, and finding this mechanic, Raven might help them. If this Raven was as good a mechanic as Clarke claimed that she was, then they just might have hope in stalling the Ark from failing, until they reached South America.

She got to an intercom, pressed it and said into it, "Mr. Richmond, I need to ask you to give me audience with the mechanic, Raven Reyes, as soon as you can."

There was static, then Richmond's voice came through, "Yes, Chancellor. We hear you. We'll bring her soon."

Back on the ground, the sun was slowly going down. And in the mansion that was built specifically to host a famous Disney ride and put a fun spin on the haunted house theme, Tikan led the newcomers to her tribe into the building. The door closed behind the group and Clarke looked at the walls all around them. Velvet walls, bright red. Electric lamps that still worked provided light. There were dozens of old black and white photos all along the wall. Clarke had to presume that these photos were "stock footage" photos that the Disney company had found and put all around the mansion to make it look authentic for customers.

Tikan stopped in front of a strange looking young man with long, white hair. The man looked like he couldn't be any older than fifteen at the oldest and had a very young looking face even for a fourteen year old. Tikan said something quietly to him and Clarke listened but realized that Tikan must have been speaking in Luwodesleng, because she didn't understand anything Tikan was saying.

The fourteen or fifteen-year-old nodded and mumbled something in Luwodesleng and Clarke was startled by the sound of the boy's voice. The boy didn't sound as young as he looked. He looked like he was only fourteen or fifteen, but he sounded like he was a full-grown man. Whatever he said to Tikan, Tikan nodded and held her hand up to Niylah and the others, signaling for them to wait. The white-haired possibly man went down the hall and turned the corner to the left, his white hair in a ponytail and his pieces of fur clothing flying behind him.

Tikan turned to Niylah and spoke in Trigedasleng. Clarke heard what Tikan said and understood it this time. "I've just sent off one of our queens' servants. He'll be back soon and tell us whether the queens can speak with you or not. In the meantime, we need to stay here. I hope you understand, Niylah."

Niylah nodded and told Tikan that it was alright. Niylah turned to Clarke and Wells and Monroe and the others and told them what Tikan told her. Niylah caught Clarke's eyes and Clarke nodded to her, understanding. Of course, none of the others except for Clarke herself and Monroe would understand what Tikan and Niylah had said to each other. So Clarke and Monroe would be hearing this information for a second time. And the second time, the rest of the others who could not understand Trigedasleng would hear it for the first time.

Wells and Jasper mumbled, "Alright." Finn and Monty nodded. Fox and Harper stayed close to everyone else. Trina stayed close to Pascal. But Pascal looked all around at the different photographs and the hall and at the many different antiques, (real or more likely fake antiques).

"This is incredible," Pascal said, looked awed. "I mean, I know that this whole place is technically fake, since it was made just to look like an authentic haunted house. But still, the fact that any of this is left? That it survived the bombs? I can't believe it."

Clarke smiled, despite the morbid thoughts that were running around in her head. Pascal and Trina had died before any of the real bad shit had happened. She didn't know how, but they had. So she couldn't really hold them accountable for anything, could she? Come to think of it, she couldn't even remember one interaction with either of them the last time around. So they had done nothing to her or anyone she cared about. Seeing Pascal's innocent expression, Clarke sighed. She probably had been a little too harsh with him before. When she had told him that it just depended on which asshole they trusted. Pascal was new to all this. And he and Trina had done nothing as far back as Clarke could remember.

"Well, what do you know," Clarke said, "I guess Jasper was right. We can walk into the rides and look around. Should be fun while we're trying to avoid being killed."

Pascal looked at her, surprised. He smirked, "I didn't think you'd know how to have fun?"

"Why?" Clarke threw back, sensing Monroe behind her getting ready to interfere in case things were said that couldn't be taken back, "Because I actually look out for our lives? Start learning how to survive, or else MY sense of humor isn't the thing you're going to be worrying about. But yes, I can have fun. When we don't have anything else to worry about, I can. You can joke all you want, but only after we make sure that we're not going to be tortured, imprisoned or killed, or all three. Got it?"

Clarke lifted her eyebrows and Pascal stared at her, then he smiled nervously. "Okay, then."

Clarke turned away from him and added, side eyeing him, "You haven't done anything wrong, Pascal. I even think you'd be helpful. But we have to prioritize. Fun does not take priority over our safety. Can you tell me that you understand that?"

Pascal nodded after he heard that. Now he looked more convinced. "I got that. Really, Clarke. I promise I got that part."

Clarke smiled. "That's good, then."

Right now, all she had was Pascal's word that he understood that their safety came first before anything else. But she would have to wait and see if he could actually follow through on his words. For now, she'd wait. Wait to see what Pascal, Trina, Jasper and Monroe were worth. She knew that Wells, Finn, Monty, Harper and Fox were trustworthy. To a certain extent. Wells and Finn more than the others. But Pascal, Trina, Jasper and Monroe were wildcards. Monroe especially, since she knew way more than the others knew. Niylah was a wildcard too. But for different reasons from Monroe. Or, Clarke suspected she was, anyway. Niylah and Monroe might have both claimed to love her. But one of them had grown up on the ground. Was a Trikru. The other had been born and raised on the Ark.

Clarke turned back to Monroe, Niylah, Wells and Finn, who were watching her. Clarke observed the looks in each individual's eyes. Niylah and Monroe watched her with endless affection and adoration. Clarke tried not to shiver at the two stares. Finn was watching her with curiosity and confusion. She suspected that he was trying to figure out how the princess of the Ark became so pragmatic. If only he knew.

And Wells was looking at her sadly, obviously pained at the things that Clarke had had to do in order to keep them safe, what kind of person she had to become for her to keep what people she could safe. Clarke looked away from all the emotional staring she was getting, glaring at an old looking, tall lamp, about six feet tall, its orange glow basking many black and white photos on the wall closest to it.

She really wasn't sure she could deal with all this. Wells's sadness and affection was bad enough. Her big brother would worry about her for the rest of their lives, however fucking long or short that might be this time around. Finn being back was a pain, but it was a useful pain. Because he had actually contributed. But his analyzation of her was NOT helpful.

Monroe and Niylah were the problems, as she had already surmised. She wanted to fuck. Speaking of "fun," she wanted mindless sex. She wanted Niylah or Monroe to go down on her. Hell, she wanted to go down on one of them. Or both of them. She wanted to finger them, make them moan. She wanted to grind against them. Wanted to cum at the same time as one of them.

But that wasn't what they wanted. Well, not the mindless part. There were emotions attached on their ends. They didn't just want to have sex with her. They loved her-or believed that they loved her. They wanted an actual relationship with her. Great. Just fucking great. Again, it was just her luck that when she decided that she was going to be solely for physical gratification and nothing else, the two people who she had been hoping would be her bed partners decided they wanted to know her emotionally. Wasn't that just fucking touching?

Clarke walked past the others and sent a cold glare to Niylah. Niylah, as usual, didn't react, much to Clarke's irritation. Niylah's calm look just gave Clarke this impression that the Grounder was saying, 'You can have your lowkey temper tantrum, if you want. It won't make a difference to me.'

Clarke huffed, turning her face away from Niylah and looking down the hall. This was just going to be so much fucking fun. Not.

Back in the land of the Trikru, Lexa and Any had gotten all their warriors ready. They had left Polis and the forest near Mount Weather. Onya knew what the likelihood was of Leksa not remembering. The likelihood did not exist. Leksa remembered. That was why she was making different choices.

Onya knew that. And she knew that that would mean that her keeping Klark safe this time would be more complicated than before, if that was possible. As Leksa led Onya and the rest of the warriors, she noticed that Sakena was wandering closer to her. "General Onya," Sakena said, turning her dark brown eyes to the older of her superiors, "What was it you wanted to speak with me about?"

Onya knew she couldn't tell Sakena. Not just yet. Sakena didn't remember. Sakena had cared for Klark. Deeply. Sakena had never had any children. But when she had met Klark, she had realized that she easily could love the girl as her own daughter. That was why Onya needed Sakena's help. She knew as soon as Sakena met Klark, Sakena would feel for her, want to take her in as her daughter. Klark obviously remembered too. If she didn't, then there was no reason why Klark wouldn't have fled to find another country where the Mountain Men, the rest of the tribes and the troublesome one hundred were not present. Klark remembered. And she did not forgive.

Onya looked at Saikena closely. That was alright. It was okay that Klark didn't forgive. Onya would give her a mother. And her own love too, if Klark was willing to try again.

She would try to give Klark a family again. They were now halfway out of their territory. They would need to get through some other tribes' territory before getting to the Luwoda's land. It would take up to eleven days.

Knowing that made Onya's hands tighten on the reins of her horse. She didn't know if she could wait that long, but did she have a choice? No. All they had were the horses. So it would take up to eleven days. Ten if they moved faster. But that would give Onya time to convince Sakena. But Onya was troubled. The leaders of the Luwoda were dangerous. That was not even getting into how powerful they were. They had magic and power that a good deal of the tribes couldn't even comprehend. And there was the rumors about their more powerful warriors. The things that claimed to be seen in the Luwoda's land at night. Onya thumbed the reins tightly. She couldn't afford to think about that right now.

Onya answered Sakena's question and watched her words carefully, "Sakena, I know that you are one of the most loyal warriors in this army. I know as well that you are more loyal to me than to Heda."

Sakena tensed and Onya couldn't blame her. Risking saying that you were not loyal to Heda was punishable by lashings. And that was one of the minor punishments. Defying Heda could risk death.

Onya smiled and nodded at Sakena. "It's alright." She promised the other Trikru. "I know. And I don't condemn you. I selected this spot in the line of our warriors so that I could talk to you about this. I want to confide in you, if you are willing to listen."

Sakena looked troubled, but as she rode along, she nodded. She chanced one look to the head of the line where Leksa was leading them, then turned back to Onya and nodded. "Very well, Onya. Say what you want to say."

Onya smiled. She knew she was about to take a very big chance. But she needed Sakena on her side.

"Sakena," Onya began, "What do you know about 'Aldey?'" She got the surprised look she had been expecting. Sakena stared at Onya, obviously confused. Onya smiled. Understandable. While this strange reoccurrence of time and remembering things that had not yet happened could only be caused by the interference of a god of some kind, there was no reason to think that Sakena would have any idea what a god might have to do with their current conversation.

The Trikru was made up of many groups of people and many religions. Aldey, the goddess of time, was one of the newer goddesses that there was little record or maybe none of before the first Heda. There were theories about the many gods that people believed in. And one of the theories was that some gods and goddesses were younger than other gods and goddesses. Onya suspected that if there was no record of Aldey before the first Heda, then that most likely meant that Aldey was a very new goddess. Onya awaited Sakena's answer and Sakena finally nodded, "She is the goddess of time. She can control past, present and future. And she can tell people of things that have not yet come to pass, or things that have come to pass, but Aldey has stopped."

Onya nodded back. "That's right. That's who she is. And that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Something happened, and Aldey stopped it. And gave us a second chance."

Sakena looked startled. "Aldey stopped it? You're sure."

Onya said, "Who else could have done it, except a god? I know this is hard to believe, but something happened and I believe that Aldey stopped it. She wound back time and gave me and someone I love another chance. And that's where you come in, Sakena. You knew this person that I love. You haven't met her yet, but you knew her the first time. You thought of her as a daughter."

Sakena stared at Onya, shocked. Her eyes were wide. Onya smiled. "Tell me, Sakena, do you think that I would make something like this up?"

Sakena's face became aggrieved, as if she had considered that Onya was lying and was ashamed of having believed so. She shook her head, night black hair flapping over her shoulders. Onya smiled again, "That's right. I'm not making it up. It happened. And now Aldey is giving us another chance. We can make things better for the girl that you chose as your daughter and the girl who is my hodness."

Sakena looked surprised at Onya's declaration. "Your hodness?" She repeated. "You fell in love with this girl?"

Onya nodded. "Sha. Very much so. But she was betrayed. By many. And one of those times, she was betrayed by our Heda."

Sakena actually looked like she might fall of her horse if she wasn't careful, she looked so surprised. Onya's tongue touched her front teeth as she almost laughed. That was what Sakena was having a hard time swallowing, it seemed. Not that time had been reversed or something like that, but that they were not to trust their Commander.

Onya told Sakena, "I don't think I have to say more to tell you that we cannot tell Heda any of this."

Sakena slowly nodded. Onya continued, "The girl that we're looking for? She's one of the Sky People. She's one of the people we're looking for. In the group of people that have gone to the Luwoda."

Sakena's dark eyes softened, finding all this fascinating. She asked softly, "What is her name, Onya?"

Onya checked around where they were riding, making sure no one was close enough to hear. She turned back to Sakena. "Klark," Onya answered, feeling herself softening just by saying her homon's name, "Klark kom Skaikru."

Back on the Ark, Callie waited by the screens where the faces of the one hundred were displayed. Callie stared at Clarke's picture and Wells's picture, almost afraid of looking away. She knew it was ridiculous, but she felt like if she looked away at any moment, the deadly red x marks that covered so many other of the one hundred's faces would appear on Wells's picture or on Clarke's picture.

Unlike the rest of the one hundred, there was no way Clarke or Wells would take off their wristbands willingly. So that would mean that if there was an x on their pictures, it would be because either their wristbands were forced off, or they were killed. And given where she was right now, Callie had no way of knowing which it might be, should Clarke or Wells ever have those red x marks on their pictures.

The sound of the mechanical doors of the control room alerted Callie to an arrival. She turned around, finally tearing her eyes from the faces of the two darling teenagers that had become her children over the years and looked at the guards that just entered. There was a young woman who was in front of them. The young woman or older teenager was dark skinned, had black hair tied back in a ponytail and was wearing a thick, bright red jacket. Callie asked, trying to master her voice into sounding in command, "Raven Reyes, I presume?"

The young mechanic nodded. "Yeah, that's me. Whose asking, Chancellor?" Callie did not miss the challenging tone Raven's voice took when she said "Chancellor."

Callie smiled. "I believe that you know someone among the one hundred. Finn Collins?"

Callie watched as Raven's eyes became guarded as soon as she heard that question. Callie turned to the screen where all the faces appeared and spotted the name "Finn Collins" right between the names "Del Bryan" and "Deek Sherman." The face right under the name was boyishly handsome, with brown hair and a mischievous smile that you could tell that the boy just barely could stop from keeping on his face. There was no red x on this Finn Collins's face.

Callie turned back to Raven. "Clarke Griffin, daughter of the mechanic who was executed is with Finn Collins now. And so is Wells Jaha, Thelonius Jaha's son. The two of them and Finn have left the one hundred. They say that there's a dangerous man, Bellamy with the one hundred. He's taking wristbands off. So Clarke, Wells, Finn and possibly some others left the one hundred so that we would know that Earth is livable. It seems that that's not all that Clarke wanted us to know. She told us that there are many people down there, before the one hundred. And that they're hostile."

Raven's eyes widened. The shock was very apparent on her face. Callie suspected that if she wasn't a figure of authority, Raven might have cursed.

Callie was corrected a second later, when Raven said, voice a small laugh, "Oh shit." Callie smirked, surprised, but weirdly relieved. Good to know that she wasn't about to talk with a totally straight arrow.

She could rely more on secrecy that way. She continued talking. "So there are several groups of people down on the ground, most likely. And Clarke has warned us that they're dangerous. So Clarke says that we need to go to South America. I don't know why she's so sure there aren't people there, but she says there is not. She says we need to get there to be safe."

Raven looked surprised, but nodded. "Okay," She said, "And what does Clarke say you need me for?"

Callie recognized the caution in Raven's voice when she asked that. She answered, "I'm going to tell you something confidential, Raven. Jake Griffin wasn't floated for being a traitor. He was floated because he knew something he wasn't supposed to know. It's the same reason why Clarke was sent down to Earth. They both knew that there is an oxygen flaw in the Ark. If we don't go to Earth soon, no one will survive here up to two years. We have just enough juice and oxygen left to give us a half a year. Maybe a year and a half if we're very, very lucky.

Raven's dark-skinned face was now very, very pale. "What the fuck?" She whispered, "Jaha killed one of the best mechanics and threw out his own son to hide that?"

A small laugh came out of Callie before she could help it. When Raven put it like that, that was a good point. The best mechanic, who knew about the flaw, who might have been able to delay the inevitable long enough for them to find out if Earth was livable for a longer period of time, and Thelonius Jaha had floated him? Not a very smart thing to do.

"I'm afraid so," Callie admitted. "Which is why we're in the situation that we're in at the moment. So that's why I'm asking for your help, Raven. I'm sorry. I wish I didn't have to do so underhanded as seeking the help of someone so young and putting this on your shoulders."

Raven slowly recovered and shook her head. "No burden. Tell me what I gotta do. But you promise me I'll get to Earth. That I'll see Finn soon."

Callie's smile widened. "I can't promise you the second thing, because I don't know what's happening down there. But I can promise you the first. And that depends on if you can keep the system together till we get down to Earth."

Raven nodded, looking determined now. "You got it. I'm your girl."

Callie instantly felt relieved. Excellent. She said, "Good. I can't promise you that you'll see Finn soon. But I can help you listen to his voice, if you'd like. Clarke has Finn with her and Wells. And she has a radio that she's been using to talk with us. Would you like to hear his voice?"

Raven stepped forward almost too close and the guards were about to lunge, but Callie held up her right hand to keep the guards back. "You have contact with Finn?" Raven asked, voice hard. It was a 'you better not be shitting me' tone. Callie nodded, smiling.

"I can get you into contact with him. Just give me a second." Callie answered. She turned to the control panel and picked up the radio she had been speaking with Clarke over. She turned it on and talked into the radio, turning back to face Raven, "Clarke, are you there?"

Back on the ground, in the Haunted Mansion of the park, Clarke almost jumped when she heard static come out of the radio. She heard Callie's voice then, even as the guards around her and the rest of the group turned to them, surprised by the sound of the radio.

"Clarke, are you there?" Was what Callie's voice asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those wondering, yes, I brought in Disney World specifically so that the Haunted Mansion could be featured heavily. It's my favorite ride. And yes, you will be seeing a lot of it in this.


	16. In love with a dead woman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If people don't start suspecting what the deal is with the statues after this chapter, I will be very surprised.
> 
> Trigger warnings for lewd language, implications of violence, mentions of murder and rape and a general pessimism in this chapter

In the land of the Luwoda tribe, which was in Disneyworld, of all places, they stood in the Haunted Mansion, also of all places, and the radio that was dangling from Clarke's right pocket on her pants started making static noises, then came Callie Cartwig's voice. "Clarke, are you there?"

Clarke jumped, turning to the radio. She then looked at the other Grounders around her. Their attention was on her and the radio. She grabbed the radio fast, speaking into the device. She had to be quick, she didn't want to have to deal with 'delicate flower' Grounders freaking out as soon as there was a noise they didn't like.

She spoke into the radio. "Callie, yes, I'm here! With one of the tribes. We left the one hundred, as I said. We're in Florida. Specifically, Disneyworld. No, that's not a joke. We're actually IN Disneyworld. That's where the tribe is. But we're trying to get boats so we can reach South America. How are things on your end?"

Clarke looked up at the Grounders around her and her group, wanting to make sure none of them were going to go on the violent side. They were staring, but none of them were lunging. Clarke heard Callie's voice.

"Things are going as well as we can do up here. Kane has been executed. There was no reason to delay." Callie said. Clarke stared, confused. Kane was executed today? Wasn't the plan to execute him tomorrow? Why speed up the execution to today?

Clarke then asked, "Callie, who won the election?" Since it was Callie that Clarke was hearing, and not Abby, she had a feeling she already had the answer.

Callie talked again, "It was closer than I thought it would be. But I won the election. I'm the chancellor now. So I decided that there shouldn't be any wasted time for Kane. No need to let him try anything and try to break out or manipulate anything from inside."

Clarke frowned. Callie winning wasn't a surprise to her. It was this Kane thing that made her worried. What difference would it have made, had Kane been executed tomorrow instead of today?

(Unless,) Clarke thought to herself, (There was something that Kane knew or might have found out that Callie didn't want him to tell anyone). Clarke almost gasped when she thought that. Wait, fucking what? Callie had killed Kane to keep Kane from spreading word of something? Of what? That was crazy. Clarke laughed, "I guess there's no help for it. At least one more problem is gone."

Clarke didn't like where her thoughts were going. There was possibly one reason why Kane had been killed today instead of tomorrow. There was one thing that Clarke could think of that Callie would want Kane dead in order to stop him from spreading information about. Kane wouldn't have been the one to tell people about the flaw in the Ark. Callie would of. So that meant that the flaw in the Ark couldn't have been what Kane had been killed for trying to talk about. There was only one thing that Clarke could think of. And that was that Kane hadn't killed Jaha.

Clarke's skin crawled. No. That couldn't be what happened. There was no way that Callie would float someone for a crime they hadn't committed. It was Callie, for fuck's sake. Not Jaha and not Kane. Not even her mother, Abby. It was Callie. An actual, reasonable human being.

So then why would she have floated Kane today instead of tomorrow? What the hell difference would it make?

A whispery voice answered, and the answer was somehow even more unnerving than the question. (Because Callie might have been the one that killed Jaha. Not Kane. She might have framed Kane for it. And killed him before he could tell anyone or convince anyone that he hadn't done the deed). Clarke suddenly felt really cold. She didn't know how she felt about that possibility. It was insane, but what if it was true? Sure, she felt no lost love for Jaha or for Kane. As far as she could see, the sooner they were gone the better. But she didn't know how she felt about Callie being the one that did it, and having manipulated her way into being the chancellor.

Not that Clarke felt she had any reason to judge others who did what they had to do, but still, the circumstances were weird, weren't they? Jaha had been assassinated. And Kane had been floated for it. But ahead of when he was supposed to. And on the same day that Callie had become chancellor, too.

Callie asked, "Clarke, are you there?"

Clarke brought her attention back to Callie. "Sorry, Callie, got distracted for a second. When did Kane get floated? Before or after you became chancellor?" Clarke wasn't sure why she felt like it was such a good thing to ask. But she just felt like she had to know.

There was no answer. Then Callie's voice came through. "After. Why, sweetie?"

Clarke tried not to gulp. After. Kane had been floated after Callie had become chancellor. She ignored what all of her thoughts were trying to warn her about. If Callie really HAD killed Jaha and framed Kane for it, then had him killed, so what? Jaha had been a huge threat. So had Kane. Just because the disposal of both of them had not been through legal means didn't mean that it wasn't the right thing to do. And even more importantly, that it might have been the only thing that could be done. Jaha would never have allowed anyone but him in control. And the same with Kane, but to a point.

But either way, they would have been obstacles keeping the rest of the Ark from being safe.

So was there any real loss? No. But despite that, it scared Clarke to think about. Callie hadn't even come down to Earth yet. And even then, if Clarke's theory was true, then Callie was willing to do unimaginably ruthless things in order to get her way. That was a little fucked up. If it was true, that was. Clarke knew that she would be betting a lot on that if she really wanted to assume that her theory was true. But if it was true…

Clarke had always assumed that Callie was the most reasonable member of the council, only after her father. If she was as cold and ruthless as Clarke was jumping to conclusions that Callie might be, then what did that mean for the rest of them? Was Callie to be trusted?

Clarke talked into the radio, trying to ignore her paranoid train of thought and not wanting Callie to get worried. (Or suspicious), a thought whispered to Clarke. Clarke said, "Okay, then. Just wanted to check. After. Right. So anything else happening on your end that we should know about?"

She felt like she had just said something dangerous, but she tried to shake that feeling.

She heard Callie's voice. "Raven Reyes. I've gotten into touch with her. She's here now. I told her that she might be able to speak with Finn Collins. If that's alright with you?"

Clarke gasped. Raven. She was accounted for? Callie had her on hand. Good. That was really good. Even though Clarke was suddenly not very comfortable with the visual of Raven and Callie being in the same room, it was a good thing. Because giving Raven an incentive to help them was important. And at this point in time, Clarke couldn't see any bigger incentive for Raven, than Finn.

Clarke was able to stop herself from smirking. Yes, she wasn't one to judge about people doing what they had to do for the good of others. And if she had to use Finn as a carrot on a stick for Raven to follow through on something, then she'd do it. What a crude and disgusting thing to do.

Clarke looked at Finn and said into the radio, "Yes, sure. I think that's a good thing. We have Finn right here." She turned to Finn. "Finn," She said, making sure she sounded as authoritarian as she felt, "Talk to your girlfriend." Clarke put a good deal of emphasis on "girlfriend," and glared at Finn to boot.

Finn looked like she had just told him to throw himself out a window as he took the radio in his hands. He talked into the radio. "Raven?" He asked. "You there?"

Static kept coming out of the radio's speaker, then a new voice came on. It wasn't Callie, but it was someone Clarke recognized anyway. She smiled. It was Raven's voice.

"Finn?!" Raven's voice cried from the radio. "You're there? Are you alright?!"

Finn looked at Clarke, uncertain. "Yeah, Rae," Finn answered. "I'm alright. I'm safe. Are you alright? It sounds like a lot of crazy stuff is happening up there."

Raven snorted, "Yeah. First some asshole shoots Jaha and starts all this, he couldn't even get the job right, the fucker. And now Jaha's been killed by someone else, we have a new chancellor and Kane's dead. So yeah. It's crazy. But from what I hear, things have been happening down on the ground too. The mechanic's kid, Clarke is with you, right? And so's Jaha's kid?"

Finn nodded, "Yeah. Clarke and Wells. They're here. They're alright. So Clarke's gotten us to some tribe. One that this Grounder says has boats. Boats we can take to South America. Where we'll be safe, supposedly."

Clarke heard Raven laugh, "That'll be a change. We won't have to worry about being floated every two minutes."

Finn smirked. "Yeah. That's a good point. Can't say Kane or Jaha were my favorite people either. So I guess we'll be living in South America, huh? Be plenty hot there, huh?" Clarke tried not to scoff. She recognized the tone Finn was taking. It was his flirty tone. It was that same insufferable tone he took when he had first talked to her on the dropship and tried that floating stunt right in front of her and Wells's seat.

(Real smooth, Finn,) Clarke thought, (Next you'll be saying that you and Raven should be having "radio sex." Don't have any phones around, so radio sex will do, won't it?) Wow, she had gotten really jaded, hadn't she?

"Watch it, Spacewalker," Raven's voice said, and Clarke recognized the mischief in Raven's words, "You might be a hotshot with the other delinquents down there, but you're still just my Finn. So as soon as I get down there, you're going to make up for the time we didn't get together."

Clarke scowled and turned away as Finn chuckled and promised Raven that that would happen. Anyone who knew about her and Finn's history in the other timeline would probably assume that Clarke was jealous of Raven, which she supposed Monroe and Niylah might assume. She didn't bother looking at the two of them to see their reaction to how she was acting. But she wasn't jealous of Raven. She was jealous of Finn. He had a wonderful girlfriend who was willing to risk her life and limb to come down alone in a pod from the Ark to see him and keep him safe. And he just hadn't cared. Had he cared, he might have been more loyal to Raven. But he didn't. For all Clarke knew, maybe Finn still didn't.

Clarke thought to herself, (Finn gets the world's most loyal, bravest girlfriend, Lexa and Anya get their power secured and their people that they lost secured, and what the fuck do I get? Oh, yeah, that's right, I almost forgot. I get a bunch of traitors for "friends" and "family." Fucking right). She had gotten bitter. So bitter. But Clarke realized that she thrived on the bitterness. Because if she had been so bitter in the last timeline, if she had been so cautious and careful, would the things that happened last time actually occurred? She really doubted it. Her bitterness was safety, as far as she could see. She grabbed her hands around the rifle dangling from her shoulder and the back of her neck. She really, really wanted to shoot something. Bad.

While Finn was sweet-talking Raven, Monroe watched Clarke. She sighed. She could read the resentment and anger all over Clarke's face. She wanted to reach out to Clarke and comfort her, but she had a feeling that Clarke wouldn't appreciate it. Not out in the open where several Grounders were watching them.

Monroe went closer to Niylah who also was keeping an eye on Clarke. "Niylah?" Monroe whispered to her. Niylah tilted her head slightly to look at Monroe.

"Munroh?" Niylah asked, attentive.

Monroe lowered her voice so Clarke wouldn't hear, "You notice that, right? Clarke's pissed. Meaning she's angry." Monroe didn't know if Grounders knew what 'pissed' meant. Or if Niylah had ever been exposed to the word before. So Monroe summed it up as best as she could.

Niylah nodded. "Yes. She seems very, very displeased. But she's been displeased for a while now, hasn't she?"

"Well, sure." Monroe mumbled. "But I'm thinking that we should probably come up with some ways of trying to heal her. Soon, I mean. Right now it's like trying to get past a barbed wire fence with electricity going through it." Seeing Niylah's confused look, Monroe corrected her words, "Right, you don't know what that means. It means that trying to get Clarke to trust again is going to be about as easy as dealing with a metal fence that can sting people and has sharp metal all over it. What's easier to get through, do you think? A metal fence with sharp things on it, or a wooden fence?"

Niylah nodded. "I see." She said, seeming to understand now. "So Klark before all the betrayals had a wooden fence. But now she has a metal 'electrical' fence with pieces of sharp metal?"

Monroe nodded, smiling. "That's right. There, you got it. So we have to figure out how to climb over that fence without her zapping us. And zapping is what happens when a fence has electricity. It's kind of like getting hit by lightning. Only it's a lot less powerful but still really painful. Understand?"

Niylah slowly nodded. "I think I understand. How do you propose we do this? We've already made our positions clear to her. That we won't do anything without her permission and that I won't touch her till she's eighteen."

Monroe nodded to Niylah. "Well, I figure that's where YOU come in. Any ideas?"

Niylah chuckled. "Impatient, are we? Something you'll need to learn is that some things take time. Klark is a very complicated case. She's been traumatized over and over again. And she's not willing to trust easy anymore. And that's a good thing, if it means that she's protecting herself. But if you want to find a way of trying to help her to open up, it will take time and patience. And more than anything else, understanding and kindness."

Monroe nodded. Yes. She knew that. Helping someone didn't need love alone. Only a naïve fool would assume that. Helping someone you loved required more than love. Helping someone you loved required everything Niylah had just said. She knew that she, Niylah, Wells and the others would have to all chip in to help. Take the stress off of Clarke whenever they could.

Monroe had seen how Niylah handled Clarke's passive aggressiveness and snide remarks. She had tolerated it as if it was coming from a child trying to scream and throw things. She supposed she should do the same. But Monroe wasn't sure she liked the idea.

Finn said, "Clarke, here, Rae and I are done now." Clarke turned to him and he handed her the radio.

Clarke talked into the radio. "Raven?" She asked, "You still there?"

Raven's voice came, "Yeah, here princess." Clarke knuckled down a growl at the nickname.

She decided that now was as good as any to make sure that Raven knew who was in charge. "Watch it, Reyes." She said coldly, not caring how frigid her voice sounded, "I don't appreciate nicknames. And in case you hadn't noticed, me being the equivalent of royalty on the Ark didn't save me or Wells from being thrown down to the ground to be used as test subjects. Or save my father from being executed when he was just trying to save the rest of the Ark."

There was a cold silence both in the room of the Haunted Mansion and on the radio. Clarke glared at the radio, ready for some lip from the little whiny mechanic. Was it really fair for her to judge people in this timeline, based on things they hadn't done yet? Maybe not, but if you knew what decisions someone was going to make, were you really supposed to have sympathy for them? If someone had met Hitler before the taking of his power in Germany and before the 1230s and there was a chance of stopping him through talking and not shooting, was there even a chance anyone with even a quarter of a brain would do the first of those options and not the second? Of course not. Anyone who even felt a shred of love for humanity at all, even if it was only a little, would know that they would have to kill that mother fucker and fast, before he got the masses screaming for the blood of Jews, Romani, people of the gay community at the time, and anyone who wasn't a blue eyed, blonde haired, white German.

So if Raven was had the potential of getting in the way of the survival of the Ark, and Clarke knew that Raven did, then Clarke was going to…fix that problem, ASAP. Clarke still loved Raven. Even if those feelings were tangled now with resentment, anger and pain. And she wanted to work with Raven. She did. But she just didn't trust Raven.

Raven finally answered over the radio. "I'm sorry. You're right. I forgot about your dad. Just cool down. I'm sorry, okay? I think maybe we had a misunderstanding. Can we start over?"

Clarke paused, feeling confused. Then again, there were times when Raven was able to be almost infuriatingly reasonable. In this timeline, Finn wasn't dead yet. In this timeline, Clarke hadn't killed anyone Raven knew and loved yet. In this timeline, Raven was meeting Clarke newly. But the problem was that Clarke knew exactly how Raven would react, should Finn die. If Finn died that in any way involved Clarke, Raven would instantly blame Clarke. Clarke had no use for people who didn't look at things rationally. But in the meantime, she supposed she could pretend that she had patience for people like that. No need for Raven to know that Clarke had played this game before and knew how to play it to her advantage.

She faked a smile and a pleasant tone of voice when she talked again. "I'm sorry, Raven," Clarke said, not sorry at all, "I shouldn't have been that harsh. This is all still really new to me." Boy, that was the biggest lie ever. That probably had to be the biggest lie she had told yet. "My dad's death is still kind of fresh." Even though she hadn't seen her father get floated again this time around, and so chronologically, her father's death, for her, was far away now, what she said was not a lie. It still hurt like hell. "I shouldn't have snapped at you. Sorry. But I have a name, okay? It's Clarke."

Raven's voice came again, this time hesitant, "Sorry. I didn't realize it was such a touchy thing. Sorry. Clarke. It's nice to meet you. I think."

Clarke chuckled, the humor for real this time. "Thank you for calling me 'Clarke.' I should have been more polite. But it's been a few days, to say the least. Thank you for any help you can give."

Raven's voice was calmer now, "Sure. No problem. I'm sorry for your loss. Your dad, I mean."

Clarke said gently, "Thank you. It's nice to hear someone actually say that who isn't my best friend, Wells. As I said, any help you can give? We're grateful for. If you can help the Ark last long enough to get down to South America, you'd be saving us all."

Raven might have been a fool in some cases, but flattery would make the usually glum mechanic feel like she was worth more than what she had been told her whole life she was worth. And flattery, as Clarke had learned, even before first coming down to Earth in the other timeline, was just another weapon to be used to get your way.

Clarke heard what she had wanted to hear, which was Raven's obviously flattered answer, "I…...thank you, Griffin. I-I'll try, promise. Besides, good luck finding a machine that's been fixed by me that will break anytime soon."

Clarke smirked. There was the confident Raven she needed. Clarke's ability to empathize with Raven was limited. But she needed Raven's confidence for her cooperation. And if stroking the selfish little bitch's ego was what did it, then Clarke supposed she'd do it. "Alright, then," Clarke said, trying to ignore the sadistic desire she felt to wrap her fingers around Raven's neck and choke her, remembering Raven's abusive words after Finn's death, "We need the Ark to get to South America. As far as we know, all the people fled from the bombs to North America. I don't know why North America, specifically. But they did. That's what I've been able to get from some of the people on the ground that we've talked to. So that means that South America should be fairly empty of humans. Hopefully. So I'm thinking maybe bring the Ark to Amazonia. Check it on a map of South America. It's right next to Brazil."

Clarke couldn't be absolutely sure that there were no human beings in South America. But from what she remembered all three Anya, Lexa and Lincoln telling her about the tribes in present day, was that groups of people from all over had fled to North America during the time of the bombs and the radiation or as the Grounders called the radiation-'The blistering fires.' And they said that they had traveled a few times to South America, or as it was called by the Grounders, 'The Green Earth Snake,' called that because the Grounders brought back stories of the rainforest they had seen. And many tribes in the coalition today were from there. That meant that they weren't occupying South America anymore. If that was the case, then Clarke was hoping there was vacancy for the rest of the Ark people.

Raven said after hesitating, "Alright, Amazonia. I'll check the map. Boy, this will be different. I mean, really different."

Clarke chuckled, "Yeah, it WILL be." And she meant that too. She didn't know much about the rainforest, but what little she DID know was that it was very different from the forests she had seen here in North America. Not just warmer weather, but different plants, herbs and animals that were unlike any animals here.

It would take some getting used to, but it was better than being here with a bunch of Grounders, the Mountain Men and the selfish one hundred, wasn't it?

Raven answered, "I'll see what I can do. You hang in there, Clarke. I'll keep you updated. In the meantime, watch out for my boy, Finn, okay?"

Clarke snickered, almost relieved. There she was. There was the pressuring, self-centered Raven that she was familiar with. The Raven that held Clarke accountable for every rainstorm that there was. It kind of was a relief for Clarke to hear Raven say that. At least she didn't have to keep waiting for the manipulations to come. Raven was being pressuring and using obligations right in the open, wasn't even giving false claims that she was willing to be a good person.

"I will, " Clarke said. "No worries." Only so long as Raven got the Ark to the ground. After that, did Clarke really need either Raven or Finn anymore? Not really. That thought almost made Clarke grin in a vicious way. She hadn't thought of that. She hadn't thought of killing Finn and Raven as soon as the Ark was down and the defenses were all up and running to defend them from potential threats till just now. That was intriguing. Killing Finn and Raven would be…..therapeutic.

Raven answered, sounding reassured, "Thanks, Clarke. Here's hoping I'll see you and the others soon. Hang in there."

"Always try to." Clarke said, "You do the same. I'll keep Finn safe till you get down here. Hang tight and take care of the Ark."

Raven promised Clarke and said goodbye. Clarke turned to the others who had all watched with interest. She put her radio away. She smiled a fake smile that she was sure Niylah and Monroe saw through. Maybe Wells did too, in fact, most likely. She turned away from them and eyed the Grounders who had been watching. The Grounders thankfully all looked more intrigued than cautious. That was good. The less frightened the fragile little flowery Grounders were, the less likely they'd freak out and attack.

Clarke had decided it, finding the possibility too desirable not to consider seriously. After the Ark got down and an electric fence was made around their camp and they had the resources they needed, Clarke planned to kill Finn and Raven.

Monroe watched Clarke, as usual. She didn't like that smile on Clarke's face. She didn't know why, but she just didn't. There was something about this new Clarke that really felt dangerous. Not dangerous as in a snake that just wanted to be left alone and wouldn't strike out unless you accidentally stepped on it. No. Dangerous as in she'd go out of her way to hurt you. Kind of like those animal attacks she used to read about on the stories in the Internet that existed on the Ark. She had seen a lot of animals trying to attack her and the other one hundred back in the other timeline, but they hadn't gone out of their way to do it. Usually they were just trying to protect themselves from being hunted.

But there were the exceptions. Like big cats, bears or wolves that attacked people. When she had been living in the back alleys of the Ark communities, Monroe would sometimes break into some computer archive or other to find information on the Ark if she wanted to track down some food or something to sell on the Ark. She'd occasionally find the old stories from the old Earth. About lions that attacked villagers and bears that attacked tourists or jaguars that attacked people every now and then. One story that chilled her had been one about a timber wolf that had tried to make off with a two-year-old boy and most likely would have eaten him too, had his mother and father not beaten the timber wolf into letting the boy go. There were even pictures of the timber wolf. The timber wolf hadn't been killed, it had gotten away from the park patrol officers before they could get to it, but there had been long distance photos of the wolf. The wolf's face had looked more primal than other wolves' faces that Monroe had seen in other pictures. There had been something about that wolf that had really bothered Monroe.

Monroe had actually had a nightmare about that. The weird thing about the dream was that she hadn't been the two-year-old or the witness to the two-year-old almost getting ripped apart, but she had been the timber wolf.

She didn't know why she had had that dream. It had scared her. Was she really in such a vulnerable position on the Ark and so desperate for food, that she would subconsciously cause herself to have a dream about being a timber wolf that would target a two-year-old child as food?

Monroe had never liked that she had had that dream. It had made her wonder if there was some part of her that knew something about her that the rest of her brain didn't know. It made her wonder if she was more bloodthirsty than she had thought.

The smile on Clarke's face right now, it was reminding Monroe of that timber wolf.

It was a smile that said, "Sure, you can trust me. Until you turn your back. Then I'll rip you apart, limb from limb. Because I just fucking want to."

Monroe turned away from Clarke, looking down the hall and seeing that strange, short, white-haired man from before walk back over. She supposed she should have seen all this coming. If someone was betrayed enough times, then it looked like this was just how they turned out. If people were going to treat someone like they were the scum of the earth even though that same supposed scum tried again and again to help, then didn't that mean that Clarke being the way she was now had been inevitable? Maybe. It made Monroe's stomach turn. She hadn't helped as much as she should have. If she had told Clarke how she had felt before, then maybe Clarke would have had something more to hold onto. But she had told Clarke too late. Clarke trusted no one now. Maybe not even Wells entirely.

The short, white-haired man reached Monroe and the others and stopped in front of them. He said in Gonasleng, much to Clarke and Monroe's surprise, "The queens will see you in an hour. After the sun sets, they will speak with you."

Clarke frowned suspiciously. What did the sun setting have to do with anything? Still, she looked at Niylah and Niylah nodded, smiling. It was as if Niylah was sure that everything was going to be alright. It wasn't a look that made Clarke feel comfortable. Her father had had that same look on his face before his death and she had seen how he had ended up.

Her poor father had been such a selfless fool. But then, Clarke knew that that was what made her different than how she had been in the other timeline. She had been a selfless fool. And now she was a wise monster.

She's like to think there was something poetic about that. And there was. In a way. She had been a moron that had hoped the world could be better. The world had more than happily shown that it could not be and would make sure that she was not better either. Now she was going to be the worst of the worst. And she would hurt everyone else. She would rip this world apart as soon as she had the chance.

More thoughts filled Clarke's mind that she knew should have been disturbing, but she realized she wasn't disturbed in any way by them. Killing Raven and Finn after they had landed in Amazonia, South America and bringing up an electrical fence as protection, letting the rest of the Ark people finding the bodies and not knowing who did it, occasionally going back to North America to poison the waters so that more and more Grounders died from sickness. Clarke felt her smirk stretch. Was evil supposed to feel so good?

She had never realized that it could feel good to choose to be a monster.

She wondered, was this what Bellamy, Murphy, Cage and Emerson had gotten out of it?

She enjoyed the feeling of her own murderous thoughts. If this was what a monster felt like when it realized that the whole world could be at its fingertips if it was smart enough, if it was devious enough, then you know what? Clarke realized that maybe there was a good reason to turn dark. She was going to become a serial killer. Hell, she was already a mass murderer, wasn't she? So why not be a serial killer. There was a technical difference, sure. One of them killed hundreds and hundreds of people at once or one after another in close order, and the other killed one person after another. Then again, the poisoning thing would probably count as "mass murder." She thought about that. She smirked even more when she realized that this would be the first time she would be committing genocide in this timeline.

Ooh, new mass murders. What fun. What fucking fun. She supposed she could come back for the Mountain Men after all this and kill all of them. Might even be funny to kill Maya up close with a knife instead of with poison air. She might come back to South America and give Jasper details about it. Her tongue slid along her teeth, as if trying to taste the blood she had yet to spill. Was that too murderous? Too psychotic a thing to do? Well, Clarke had never thought she was a psychopath, but she had been called a monster, a mass murderer, a traitor, a coward and worthless and bringer of death and while she had at one time thought she was not any of those things, she had done a lot of shit. So who was she to say whether she was a psychopath or not?

And why not? What was wrong with her being one? Everyone else got away with being a murderer, child rapist, for Murphy's case it was one, for Bellamy's case, it was both, a traitor, a coward-she'd have to turn to Jasper for that one. Everyone got away with everything. Everyone else escaped justice all the time. Why shouldn't she?

Clarke could feel eyes on her and she turned to see Wells and Monroe watching her, more than a little nervous.

Clarke scowled at them. "What's eating the two of you?" She asked. Wells shook his head.

"Nothing." Wells answered, but Clarke knew that that was bullshit.

Monroe just said dryly, 'You look incredibly happy is all. Well, happy is one word for it."

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Mind your own business." She said darkly, feeling a little guilty that she was talking that way to two of the few people that were actually loyal to her.

Monroe turned to Wells who had a hurt look on his face. "Don't take it seriously.' She whispered. "She's just been through a lot. Just give her some time." Monroe wanted to believe her own words. But she wasn't sure she couldn't. The more time she spent around this new Clarke, the more she realized that they might really have a big problem on their hands.

Monroe wanted to hold her, to comfort her. But she knew her gentle touches and warmth would be rejected. This new Clarke was all about instant gratification and was in no way interested in intimacy or love. She was interested entirely in only what she could get out of life physically. Monroe remembered what Niylah had said. But still, seeing Clarke like this, Monroe just wasn't sure understanding and kindness would be enough. She looked at this new Clarke and she saw a bloodthirsty predator.

The white-haired man nodded and said, "If that will be all for now, I will return in an hour to come back and bring you to the queens."

"Yes, yes." Clarke grumbled, waving a hand, still smirking. She looked away from him and checked out the walls covered in black and white photos. The white-haired man turned and walked away.

When he disappeared, Harper said, "Who'd have thought there would be an entire tribe here in Disneyland?"

Clarke chuckled, "Hey, still recovering from the shock too."

Harper watched Clarke, a little mesmerized. She had never met anyone like Clarke before in her life. Harper had grown up on the worse sides of the Ark. She had basically been raised by fellow orphans. Her father had died when she had been eight years old. He had been floated for fighting with a guard and almost killing the guard. Her mother had died when Harper had been twelve. Harper would never say this, but she knew her mother had drunk herself to death and overdosed on anything she could find, too sad by the death of her dear husband. Refusing to be a ward of the place that had gotten both her parents killed, she fled her family's bunk and took to the alleys of the Ark. She had been found by a few other orphans that eventually were thrown into the skybox and executed. But before they had been arrested, they had made sure to look after Harper.

Harper had been protected for almost four years before her "gang family" had been arrested and executed. She had been arrested too, but too young to be floated. And that was how she had ended up here.

She'd have thought that Clarke being one of the privileged few of the Ark, would be more fragile. Would be more scared or entitled. She wasn't. She was direct. She was commanding. She was scary. She was beautiful.

Harper swallowed that thought. She wasn't sure Clarke would be interested in her. Something Harper had learned over the years on the Ark was that she was not straight. Not gay either. She was sure the word was "bisexual." Or pansexual. She wasn't sure which. But she was one of those.

She had slept with some boys on the Ark. But some girls too. She always made sure to use protection. Her "older siblings," had always provided her with condoms that hadn't been used yet, always in the package and made sure that she always used it.

The closest she had to older brothers, "Hawk," "Vernon," "Marc" and "Nathan" and the closest she had had to older sisters, "Sheila," "Kate," "Elizabeth" and "Grace" were all dead now. All eight of them had been floated. Hawk and Vernon had been the oldest, so they had been floated almost instantly after being arrested. Nathan and Elizabeth had been floated next. Then Grace. Then Kate, Sheila and Marc had been next. The last one to be floated had been Sheila. And she had hugged Harper so fiercely when Harper had been brought to see her by the guards that Harper almost thought that Sheila would pull her through the airlock doors to keep Harper from having to live alone. Harper at the time had almost wished that Sheila had done that.

So Harper had nightmares about her two families' deaths for years and years. The deaths of her parents and the deaths of her adoptive family. She really felt like she might have a second chance, when she had been sent down here. She thought she might have a real family again.

But Clarke had proven that a good portion of the one hundred was not to be trusted. The one hundred were trying to get the rest of the Ark killed. And as much as Harper hated Jaha and the council for what happened to both her families, she wasn't going to condemn the rest of the Ark for it.

For every few who were in a position to have people executed like Jaha and Kane and the Griffins and Cartwig were, there were over a million people far more vulnerable on the Ark that were more like Hawk, Grace, Marc and Sheila than they ever would be like the people in the council. There were way more vulnerable people on the Ark than there were the powerful. And if stopping the rest of the Ark from coming down was going to kill all those people, then Harper wanted nothing from the rest of the one hundred.

Her lot was with Clarke now. Even if she was the daughter of two of the most powerful people on the Ark. As Clarke had pointed out, being a child of powerful people hadn't kept her or Wells from being sent down here as experiments and it hadn't saved her father from being floated.

From the sounds of it, being powerful hadn't kept Kane from being floated either. Harper felt like she should have been happy to hear about Kane being floated. But strangely enough, she wasn't. Just more and more death. It made her sad more than anything else.

Harper watched Clarke, now very curious. Clarke was not like anyone she had imagined being from the upper elite of the Ark. She was dangerous, strong, intelligent, experienced and ruthless. It scared Harper. But it kind of also attracted her. It was a silly thing. Harper saw it that way, anyway. It was one of those "silly little girl" things that she had always heard boys sneering about. It was one of the things that Sheila, Grace, Kate and Elizabeth had warned her about while they looked after her. They had warned her that boys would scoff at the things girls liked. Said that it would all be "uncool." They taught her about misogyny. Sexism against women. And they talked about how romance often was called "uncool" because it was something girls liked to talk about.

When Harper realized she liked girls as well as boys, all of her siblings had been proud of her "coming out." They told her to be proud of her sexuality and no matter how much people told her it was wrong, she shouldn't listen.

Harper wondered what Clarke was interested in. Getting the Ark people all down alive, obviously. But besides that. What was she interested in? Did Clarke even like other girls like that?

From the way Clarke had been interacting with Monroe, she was going to have to assume that Monroe definitely liked other girls like that. Or liked Clarke like that, anyway. But Harper didn't know about Clarke. Clarke was dark and frightening and mysterious.

Clarke turned back to Monroe and Harper turned away fast, not wanting Clarke to see that she had been staring. Clarke asked Niylah if she could ask the guards if there was a place where they could sit down. Niylah nodded and turned to the guards, speaking in that other language that she was using a lot. One of the guards nodded and pointed to a bunch of big, bulky, sofa chairs up against the wall opposite from him that were dark red.

Clarke turned to those chairs and looked them over. Harper did too, supposing that if she was interested in Clarke in that way, she ought to pay attention to what interested her.

Clarke looked at the sofa chairs and investigated them thoroughly and nodded. "Alright." She said, "Not that dusty. Don't have to worry about inhaling an entire house worth of dust." She did a quick count of the chairs along the hallway. "There's five chairs. Alright, Pascal, Trina, Harper, Fox, Monty, if you want to, you can sit down first."

Pascal and Trina looked surprised, then nodded. Pascal and Trina went to the first two chairs. Fox hesitated, then eagerly went to the next chair and sat down. Monty offered his chair to Jasper and Harper noticed that Clarke rolled her eyes in reaction to Monty's offer. Jasper took Monty up on the offer and sat down. Harper heard Clarke grumble quietly, "He takes Monty's offer. Why am I not the least bit surprised?"

Harper frowned as she went and sat down in the last available seat. It seemed to her that Clarke really, really didn't like Jasper. She wasn't sure why. Had Jasper done something to Clarke that none of them were aware of?

Harper sat down in the very soft sofa chair, smiling contently at how warm and snug and soft it was. Wow, this was nice. Even with the elite class, there were never any chairs like this one. She wondered how people had made these kinds of chairs back then.

She turned her eyes back to Clarke. Clarke wasn't glaring at Jasper, thankfully, just keeping her attention on the others. "After the others sit down for fifteen minutes tops," Clarke said, "It's Monty, Finn, Wells, Monroe and Niylah's turn to sit down."

Harper thought about that. Sure, it seemed like it was fair, except for one thing. In both groups of people sitting down, wasn't there one person missing in both groups? Clarke was missing. Monroe had thought of this too. She answered, "And when will you get to sit down, Clarke?"

Clarke snorted at Monroe's worry with a wave of her right hand. "Don't get so worked up over me, Monroe. I'll sit down when I want to sit down." Clarke looked over Pascal, Trina, Fox, Jasper and Harper. "Remember. Fifteen minutes tops. If you don't move, I throw you out of your chairs. Understood?"

At the threat, Harper nodded fast and glanced behind her, noticing Jasper and Fox nodding quickly. She couldn't see them, but she had no doubt that Pascal and Trina had nodded too.

Harper wasn't going to question Clarke's authority. She was unquestioningly the leader. Harper wasn't sure that she'd argue that Clarke was a leader by fear alone. She wasn't. Harper was sure of that. She was also practical and thoughtful. Not to mention impassioned. Harper had heard that word more than a few times between her older siblings. She hadn't understood what that word meant, until she saw Clarke verbally tearing into Octavia again and again. Yes. Impassioned. That and other words too.

Harper was intimidated by Clarke, yes, but also intrigued and possibly enamored.

Clarke turned from the five sitting individuals and turned her eyes back to the worried Monroe. She smirked, "I know you're worried, Monroe. But don't be. I'll sit down when I fucking want to."

Wells frowned at Clarke's language, but said nothing. Clarke sighed. She knew that her brother was having a hard time wrapping his brain around what type of person she had become. She knew it was a lot for him to take in. He had just learned that there had been another timeline where he had been dead only a couple of days after coming to Earth and that his sister had been betrayed in every way possible the rest of that time on Earth in the other timeline. That couldn't be an easy thing to acknowledge. Not just that you had been killed but that you weren't there to protect your best friend and sister from all the lies and backstabbing. Wells was going to have to grow up quickly, as the rest of them were going to have to.

A stab of guilt hit Clarke then. She had never wanted this for Wells. Never him. She had wanted him alive and safe and happy. But never this. This world wasn't one that could offer the possibility of being happy, safe and alive all at the same time. It had to be at least two of those. Happiness was relative. So it had to be the other two if you wanted to survive. Clarke knew that if she had to decide for herself, it would be all three. But she knew she didn't have that option. As soon as she thought she had happiness, it was ripped from her. As soon as she had thought she had found safety, it was ripped from her.

This world was built on deception and savagery. End of story. Clarke just hoped that Wells could keep up.

Clarke turned back to the five seated people and noticed something that made her calculated and disturbed thoughts stop. The way Harper was looking at her was….interesting, to say the least. Why was Harper looking at her like that?

Clarke tilted her head at Harper and Harper's cheeks flushed bright pink and she looked away. A slight realization hit Clarke then and she smirked. Well, well, well. Clarke glanced at Jasper sitting behind Harper. Then she looked at Monty. Looked like she had the chance to steal Monty and Jasper's chance with Harper right out from under their noses. Clarke lost her smile and looked only one more time at Monroe and Niylah, before turning back to look at Harper.

If Niylah and Monroe weren't going to act, then Harper it would be. If Niylah was bound by some ridiculous notion of morality and Monroe was bound by some moronic need to get Clarke to open up more, then Clarke didn't have to waste her time on either of them. She wasn't interested in therapy of any kind. She was interested entirely on fucking and fun right now. Harper right now seemed the type to want only that.

Then again, Clarke knew Harper. She was a soft, kind and gentle girl. She most likely would want more than just a physical relationship. Clarke held back a snort. So what? So she broke the bitch's heart. Boo hoo.

Again, that annoying conscience reared its ever-annoying head. (But what did Harper do to you?)

Clarke frowned when she thought that. Nothing. Harper had done nothing to her. That was the problem. She wouldn't even be able to feel comfortable using Harper like that.

She thought about it harder, considering her options. Niylah and Monroe obviously had been her first choices among the group, but they were restrained-ridiculously so as well. And Wells was her big brother. He wasn't an option. Besides, she wouldn't burden someone as kind and selfless as him with her sadistic and uncouth desires. Finn wasn't an option either. It wasn't that she hadn't appreciated how good a lover he was or how considerate he had been or how determined he had been to keep her and their people safe, it was just that doing anything with him would put her and Raven again at an impasse, and she had no use of a compromised mechanic.

Pascal and Trina seemed to be too much of an item to be interested in any third party.

Monty was possibly an option, but she would have to be very careful. Like with Raven and Wells, Monty was good with technology. And his skills were needed. She messed with him too much and he might be compromised. The same could be said if she did anything with Jasper. Jasper and Monty were practically brothers. If she hurt Jasper in any way, that risked Monty's loyalty. So neither boy sounded like a very good option when it came to pragmatic reasons. Besides, the thought of doing anything with someone as simpering and weak and two-faced as Jasper turned her stomach.

That left Fox and Harper. Fox was fragile and timid. Easy to intimidate and far too trusting. Sure, from a practical standpoint, she sounded like a good option. But from the standpoint of the fact that Fox had never done anything to Clarke, Clarke was hesitant to even consider her as an option.

So what about Harper then? She was stronger than Fox, undoubtedly. And most likely would be able to deal with an eventual breakup much better than Fox would be able to. Harper was a strong girl. Clarke knew this from experience from the other timeline. She was willing to fight when need be. She could be ruthless and practical, when need be.

The only question was whether or not Harper would be interested in such a relationship. Clarke had had suspicions before that Harper was by no means straight, even though she had been with Monty before. She suspected Harper was bi. But still, would Harper be interested in a relationship with no strings attached?

It was a gamble, Clarke supposed. But she decided that in order to take what she wanted and to allow her ridiculous little conscience to take a rest, she would try to be delicate about this. She would tell Harper the truth about what she wanted. Just tell her that she wanted no complicated relationship, just wanted a completely string free relationship that was all about fun and sex and nothing else. If Harper refused, then fine. Clarke would accept that refusal with grace and would try to see if she could get some fucking gratification out of some Grounder around here before they took off for South America. If so, great.

Eventually, Clarke checked her watch and when she saw that it had been fifteen minutes she ordered the five people out their chairs and said it was Niylah, Monroe, Monty, Wells and Finn's turn to sit.

Niylah and Monroe both looked at Clarke as Pascal, Trina, Jasper, Fox and Harper got up from the chairs. "You should sit for a while, Klark." Niylah said softly.

Monroe gestured to one of the seats. "You can sit in my seat."

Clarke turned to them and gave them an almost cruel smile. "I don't need either of your concern."

Monroe asked dryly, "It's a minor thing to worry about whether or not your leader has rest?"

Clarke chuckled. "Nice try, Monroe. But I don't see why you should worry about that. After fifteen minutes, I'll boot one of you from the chairs and then I'll sit down. In the meantime, the rest of you do what you're told." There was something cold and hard in Clarke's voice when she said that, and it made all three Wells, Finn and Monty shiver. It didn't make either Niylah or Monroe shiver. Both women looked troubled, yes, but they did as they were instructed.

Niylah sat down and Monroe sat behind her. Wells sat in the front chair, closest to Clarke and she nodded to him. She was somewhat surprised that he hadn't offered her the seat, but the look on his face informed her that he was figuring how to handle this new version of her. He most likely realized that reasoning with her or offerings of niceties wouldn't work.

Wells was staring at her in a way that said that he was trying to figure her out. Clarke smiled sadly at him. Between the person he was now, and who she had had time to become, there would be no real figuring out, she was afraid. She had every intention of keeping Wells innocent. Or as innocent as someone could be, while surviving in this world. Clarke then looked at Niylah and Monroe.

They were watching her watch them. She then turned her head to look at Harper, who was looking at her every now and then. Clarke tried not to smirk. So there were two people supposedly in love with her, she wanted nothing but sex and there was a girl who wasn't in love with her but obviously was interested in her sexually.

What a ridiculous situation they had here. Too bad it wasn't going to end well for either Monroe or for Niylah.

Another fifteen minutes went by and when Clarke checked her watch, she said that someone needed to get "their asses up" so she could sit the "fuck down."

Monroe practically popped up from the seat and moved out of the way so Clarke could sit down in the chair. Clarke walked over and sat down. Monroe smiled as Clarke did so.

Harper glanced at Monroe, seeing the look of utter fondness on Monroe's face. So Monroe definitely had a thing for Clarke, that was unquestionable. Clarke, however, turned from looking at Monroe and Harper and looked down the hall from where she sat, obviously waiting for that white-haired, short man to come back and tell them that the queens were ready for them.

After a few more minutes went by, Clarke stood up and asked Monroe to sit down again. Monroe hesitated, and then complied. She sat down and walked over to stand next to Harper. She glanced at Harper and said softly, "Harper, do you think you can talk for a second?"

Harper looked at Clarke in surprise. "Sure. Why?"

Clarke just shrugged. "Just to talk, you know? That okay?"

Harper nodded. "Sure." Clarke told Jasper, Fox, Pascal and Trina to stay where they were and that she just needed a moment to talk with Harper. She then went to the other end of the hallway, the bulky, red chairs with their backs to her and Harper followed. Clarke ignored some of the stares she and Harper were getting from the guards. What a bunch of weak, little flower Grounders these morons were. They probably would raid a village, then scream and cry like babies when so much as one of them was killed. The Trikru sure acted that way. She really doubted the Luwoda were much different.

Clarke looked at the guards watching her. She eyed them suspiciously. She wasn't sure how many of them spoke Gonasleng-English. But if they did, so what? What would they be understanding that she was doing? Entering a sexual relationship with someone else that was free of emotions. Clarke knew that many Grounders had very sexually liberating lives. So she knew that wouldn't be a problem for them.

She turned her attention back on Harper. "Harper," Clarke started, checking the back of the others' chairs to see if they were looking back. Even if they were looking back, they wouldn't be able to hear what she was saying. "I'm curious about something." Harper nodded, looking a little bashful, but at attention. Clarke smiled, "I just wanted to know if you'd be interested in potentially having…I guess a 'no strings attached' type of relationship." Clarke felt awkward saying something like that. Because she had never ever considered a relationship like that. The first more or less serious relationship she had had, had been with Finn. But even before that, with the other people she had been with on the Ark, she had put in more of an effort to have a somewhat normal relationship. She had never really had had a "fuck buddy" type of relationship with anyone before Niylah, and even that was now compromised because Niylah wanted more with her. Or said that she wanted more.

So this was rather new for her.

Harper looked surprised at the proposition. Clarke knew that while Harper was most likely a more conforming type of girl, in that she preferred her relationships to be more strings than "no strings," but she knew that Harper had had a few flings here and there in the last timeline. Monty, Monroe, Fox. She doubted that Harper would be too offended, even if she wasn't interested.

Harper said quietly, after blinking and laughing quietly, "Actually, I was just sort of thinking that same thing."

"Were you?" Clarke asked, smiling wide. That was very good to know. "You were thinking about it?"

Harper nodded, cheeks now pink. "Yeah. I'm sorry. I know you're busy with trying to keep all of us safe. But I just wanted you to know that I'd like it if we had a relationship. It doesn't have to be serious. I'm good with there being no strings attached. But I just wanted to let you know that I'm interested."

Clarke smiled. "Wonderful. When we get to safety, do you want to start?" Clarke wasn't sure why she had stated that like a business deal. As soon as she said that, she felt like she sounded like even more of a jerk than she already was. Maybe she really HAD become far too calloused over time.

Harper's cheeks darkened, but she didn't look offended. She shook her head. "Do we have to wait till we get to South America? Can't we start now? I mean," She looked self-consciously at the guards around her and Clarke. "It's not like we need to have sex right now, right?"

Clarke chuckled, now grinning. So Harper was eager, huh? This might be easier than she had thought. Just as long as Harper didn't feel any fucking feelings for her. As long as that didn't happen, she and Harper were golden. "So you want a kiss, huh?" She asked playfully, eyebrows rising up suggestively.

Harper's face was now bright red instead of pink and she slowly nodded. "If that's okay." She almost squeaked.

Clarke laughed quietly. Harper was a lot cuter than she thought. Sure, she had always liked Harper, but she had thought in the other timeline of Harper like a little sister to protect. That had been a mistake, she understood now. The one hundred, besides Wells and maybe Monroe and Monty, weren't her family. They were loose ends. They were burdens. They were liabilities that liked to think that they were special. And depending on who they were, like Monty or Finn because of his relationship with Raven, they just happened to be commodities. Nothing else than that.

Harper wasn't her sister. She wasn't family or even a friend. Just a commodity. An ally, and a potential fuck buddy. Really nothing more than that. But she was cute enough for that, and that was all that mattered to her.

"Sure, that's okay, Harper." Clarke cooed, wanting to make sure she gave the illusion that she was affectionate. "Go ahead." She reached her right hand out, offering.

Harper's face brightened and she walked over, taking Clarke's hand in hers and leaned in to kiss Clarke eagerly.

Clarke grinned. It wasn't sex, but it was heading in the right direction. Or….so Clarke thought. Till someone interfered.

Harper was closing in when her eyes suddenly became big and she gasped, being yanked away from Clarke, someone grabbing the girl by the back of her shirt collar.

"What the-?!" Clarke snapped, staring as Harper was pulled away, Monroe now standing there, pulling Harper away, a no-nonsense look on her face as she glared at Clarke.

Clarke was staring now at a pair of dark green eyes almost black with rage. Harper looked back at Monroe, startled. "Monroe, what are you-?" Harper began, but Monroe gave her a sharp look and Harper fell silent.

"Harper," Monroe said, anger in her voice, "Can you give me and Clarke some time alone?"

Harper nervously looked at Clarke and Clarke sighed, nodding. She didn't see anyone else behind Monroe, so that probably meant that Wells and Niylah had kept everyone else back from following. Good. So no one needed to hear anything that they shouldn't. Clarke watched Harper take Clarke's answer and turn around and walk down the hall. When Harper was out of sight, Monroe turned her glare back to Clarke. "What the fuck, Clarke?!" Monroe demanded, voice hard.

Clarke scowled and glanced at the guards. They were still watching and were looking startled at this development, but looked ahead as if they understood that this was in no way their business, so long as this didn't involve their queens or their people being threatened.

The guards, however, proved to be a non-issue, since Niylah walked up and said something to them in Luwodesleng and the guards hesitated, but Tikan was with Niylah and ordered them something in Luwodesleng and they obeyed this time. They each went in single filed behind one another down the hall and turned the corner into the other hall where Wells and the others were.

Clarke frowned. What brought that on? She looked at Niylah. Tikan looked between Clarke and Monroe and nodded to Niylah, talking in Trigedasleng now, "Your two friends will now have the privacy you asked for, Niylah kom Trikru."

"Mochof." Niylah said and she followed Tikan down the hall and they both disappeared.

Clarke turned to Monroe, glaring. "You understood what Tikan said the second time around?"

Monroe nodded. "I asked Niylah to give us some alone time when I realized what was about to happen. So you wanted to talk privately with Harper, huh?"

"Yeah." Clarke said, glaring. "That's none of your business. Like I said, what the fuck?"

"You're asking me 'what the fuck?'" Monroe asked, still sounding like she was somehow the wounded party between the two of them. "What the fuck was THAT?! I just saw you trying to use Harper as a dildo, for fuck's sake. We both know that's not what you want. And we both know that's not what Harper wants."

Clarke scowled disgustedly. Oh, so now Monroe knew her so well that she knew exactly what Clarke wanted? Harper was an open book, even without her and Monroe remembering everything from the other timeline, so whatever she wanted, it would be easy enough for both her and Monroe to know. But Monroe actually was presuming to know what SHE wanted, more than Clarke did?

That was a fucking laugh. Clarke snickered. "Wow, Monroe, it almost sounds like you're jealous."

Monroe shook her head, uncharacteristic anger still present. "I'm not jealous. I'm upset. Understandably. You aren't talking to me or to Niylah or to Wells or Finn about why you're in pain. No, instead you're trying to use Harper as a sex toy."

Clarke scoffed. As funny as the visual that Monroe was giving her of a human being actually being used as a 'dildo,' it really surprised her that Monroe didn't get it. Or if that if she did, she was putting up such a good fuss.

"Even if I AM using Harper as a 'sex toy," Clarke snorted, grinning, "What business is that of yours? You know why I can't talk to Finn. Don't be stupid. Wells is innocent. And I want him to stay that way. Niylah? You're telling me you think I'm going to trust you or her in that way? You're allies. Nothing else. Harper is convenient. She's weak, naïve and available. Will be nothing but a good fuck for me."

Monroe stepped back, looking horrified. Clarke almost laughed hard. Oh, of course, she was going to disgust one of the few people that said they loved her. Sure. Why not? Because that really WAS her luck, wasn't it? She finally decided she was going to take what she wanted out of life and people couldn't deal with that. She tried to do what everyone wanted, she got fucked over. She tried to do what needed to be done to protect her people, she got fucked over. She decided to say, 'fuck everything' and take what she wanted for the first time in ever, and she was fucked over. Go fucking figure.

"What?" Clarke sneered. "Too impolite language? Yeah, I curse now and am vulgar. So fuck you too, Monroe."

Monroe shook her head, a sad look in her eyes now. "I'm not the enemy, Clarke. I know you won't believe that, but I'm not the enemy."

Clarke sighed rolling her eyes. "It's not about whether or not you're the enemy. It's that I can't believe that you're an ally. I've heard the 'I'm not the enemy' bullshit before. It never ends well. Or did you forget? I want to believe you, Monroe. I do. But you understand why I can't, don't you?"

Monroe winced then nodded after several seconds ticked by. "Yes. I do. But even if you don't believe it, it doesn't mean I'm not an ally. I need you to understand why I'm pissed right now, okay? You deserve better than what you were trying to do. Harper deserves better. Both you and Harper deserve better than to use each other. Technically no, it's not my business. But the way you are right now? Doing this will just numb you. And it will hurt Harper."

Clarke scowled. She snorted, "You're one to talk, aren't you, Monroe? From what I heard when I went back into 'Arkadia,' didn't you use Harper too? In fact, didn't you use both Fox and Harper before?"

Clarke saw that her remark hit the mark she wanted to hit. Monroe stared, going pale. "Oh, yeah, Zoe," Clarke sneered Monroe's first name out insultingly, "I heard about that."

Monroe composed herself, looking like she had actually been physically hurt, "You're right. I DID use Harper and Fox. But that's why I know. Okay? I know it's not worth it. Both Fox and Harper deserve better. So do I. And so do you."

Clarke was surprised. She stared at Monroe, not expecting that last sentence. That she deserved better, like Monroe, Harper and Fox did.

Seeing Clarke's look, Monroe pressed her advantage. "You deserve better than to have a loveless relationship. Better than to cut yourself off from your emotions. Using people isn't good for you. You deserve love."

Clarke thankfully got herself together and grinned again at Monroe, snapping, "And how would YOU know what love is like? Because you're such an expert in the subject because you suddenly realized you're in love with me? Let me fucking tell you what love is, Monroe," Clarke looked down the hall to make sure that none of the others were heading their way, then turned back to Monroe. "I'll tell you, Monroe. Love is doing everything, absolutely everything you can to help people. And making alliances with dangerous people for them and then being betrayed by those same people but still willing to do anything for your people anyway. And then when that's not good enough for them," Clarke's teeth clenched together and her eyes were glaring with almost insane rage as she remembered every word of abuse that had been thrown at her, "You try your best to stay out of their hair, both for them and for you. Because seeing them reminds you too much of the horrible things you've done. But when you sacrifice your sanity potentially for them by going back for them, they throw it back in your face and tell you that you STILL haven't done enough. And then they decide you're no longer needed alive. That's love, Monroe. I know what love is. Love kills. That's all. That's what love gets people. So if you think that I deserve love, then you must know that I'm a monster. Because love is poison."

Monroe might have been more worried about Clarke holding a big rifle that was loaded, if it weren't for how she felt her heart breaking with Monroe's words. At Monroe's hurt and wounded look Clarke sighed, unclenching her teeth and shaking her head. "You don't know what love is, Monroe. You tell yourself that you do. But you don't know. If you knew, you wouldn't be this naïve. Love is not beautiful. It's ugly. And painful. It's a razor-sharp knife covered with blood, with a painted smiley face on it, pretending that everything is all happy and cheerful while it hacks away at people."

Clarke watched as Monroe shuddered, obviously shaken by the mental picture she was giving the braided girl.

Monroe sighed, looking sad and forlorn. "I know what love is, Clarke. I do love you."

Clarke shook her head. "You don't love me. You love the old me. You love the Clarke that was. You love the Clarke I was before I realized that love isn't worth it. The Clarke I was before I realized that no, humans don't deserve more than survival. Hell, I'm not even sure humans deserve survival." Clarke smirked and Monroe got the unnerving sense that Clarke was mentally laughing at some kind of private joke.

Clarke met Monroe's eyes and said strongly, "The Clarke you're in love with no longer exists. She's dead." Clarke had that sick smile on her face again, "You're in love with a dead woman, Monroe. You and Niylah. How does it feel? Being in love with someone who's a zombie? Someone who's physically alive but dead on the inside? Wonder what's wrong with you and Niylah if you're in love with someone who's dead. You understand me? The Clarke that I was before is dead. I'm not the Clarke you knew." Clarke now burst out laughing. It was a disturbing laugh.

Monroe felt like someone had stabbed her. Clarke's words felt like a whole iceberg had cracked open and spilled its icy air all around them, all around her. Clarke right there and then was putting a wall of barbed wire, electricity and spikes between her and Monroe and everyone else.

In love with a dead woman? What a disturbing, morbid suggestion. It was also disturbing that Clarke referred to herself as a "woman," not a "girl." Clarke physically was still a child. Seventeen. Hell, even if she got to the age of eighteen, she still technically would be a teenager. Still technically a girl. Not a woman. But Clarke had been through so much, done so much that she was basically now a very tired and exhausted woman who was through with the world. It was disturbing. Clarke was still a girl, but not.

Clarke was putting up fierce shields to keep everyone else out. Clarke might have been right in front of Monroe, but she might as well have been miles and miles away in the south pole. Monroe shuddered. Clarke was miles and miles away. So far away. She had put up so many walls that she knew now, it would take so much more work than just praises and gentle hugs. No. It would take so much more than that. She took a breath. It would need more than that. She knew that now. And all that? She would do. She knew she had to. Because she DID love Clarke.

Monroe looked around the hallway and looked down the hall to the other hall. She saw none of the guards that had been here before. She hoped they weren't listening in as Niylah had instructed them not to. Still, even if they had, what would they have understood? Even if they knew English, what could they get from this conversation? They wouldn't understand what they were talking about. They weren't saying anything obvious. Monroe turned back to Clarke. As long as she didn't say anything about another timeline or anyone dying, she should be safe. Monroe hardened her voice. "I DO love you, Clarke. I love who you used to be. And I love you now. It just means that I need to make time to know this version of you. That's all. Love doesn't just kill. It can heal too."

Clarke scoffed again. "Heal? When has it ever healed anyone? Healing people, I don't think so. But you're welcome to have your illusions. I guess going insane isn't the worse thing to happen to you that you're willing to do it again so that you can pretend that there's anything salvageable in my soul. Or in the world at all."

Monroe didn't know she was capable of so much sorrow. But she felt sad. She felt really sad. A deep almost palpable sadness. Pain. Sorrow. She closed her eyes. How did someone heal a pain like this?

Monroe dug her heels into where she stood. She had to stay strong. She couldn't let Clarke deter her. This was all a shield, a wall. This was just a hard shell she was putting up. Monroe knew she could reach Clarke. She had to. She'd have to reassess everything. Lesson one, this Clarke was a potty mouth. It would take some getting used to, but she could roll with it. Lesson two, this Clarke was very base. She had given up so she only cared about the base things in life. Fine. She could work with that. Lesson three, she was violent. That might be a problem. Lesson four, she was totally pessimistic. Definitely a problem. But Monroe might be able to work with that. Lesson five, she wasn't letting anyone in, period. That was a BIG problem.

Monroe nodded, "Then if you'll allow me, you won't stop me from trying to love you? Even if you don't believe me?"

Clarke snickered, and nodded. "Fine. Knock yourself out. Have fun with that."

Monroe smiled, despite how cold it still felt in the hallway. She hadn't realized just how bad things were. But she knew now. And Clarke wasn't going to try to stop her.

"Thank you," She said, "But leave Harper and Fox out of your sexual fantasies," Monroe continued, "Or I'll tell the others about Octavia."

Clarke blanched. "What do you mean by that? You weren't there."

Monroe shook her head, smirking. "I wasn't. But are you really going to expect me to believe that Octavia just ran off? Niylah, Wells and I might be all on the 'hate on Octavia and the other one hundred train,' but Fox, Harper, Finn, Jasper, Monty, Pascal and Trina aren't. And I know you need Monty and Finn. Finn because of Raven, more or less, but you need them both."

Monroe watched as her words hit the mark. Clarke stiffened and she glared at Monroe, realizing she was stuck. Clarke actually hissed as she realized that Monroe legitimately had something on her. Monroe nodded to Clarke, "I'm sorry. I didn't want to do this. But don't involve Fox or Harper in this. You want to keep Wells innocent? Fox and Harper are my Wells."

Clarke scowled. "I never slept with Wells. He's my brother. My relationship with him is the only thing about me that can be called 'pure.'"

Monroe sighed, "And I want to only have a sisterly relationship with Fox and Harper now. I will keep them innocent. And I'll do that if I need to. Even if I have to bring up Octavia."

Monroe felt like she had just stepped in trash. Hell, she felt like she WAS trash. She felt like every abusive thing her father and all the higher up people on the street said about her was true. That she was lower than trash somehow. She was blackmailing the girl she was in love with. But how did you reason with someone who was a self-acclaimed member of the undead and claimed that they no longer had their soul?

How did you help someone like that when they wouldn't allow themselves to be helped?

"Clarke," Monroe said, pain in her voice, "I'm sorry. I'm really, so sorry. I DO love you. But I have to protect Fox and Harper. And you know what? It's good that I'm doing this. Because you using Fox or Harper won't help you either. I'm protecting you too."

Clarke stared hard at Monroe. "Sure doesn't fucking feel like it, you damned bitch."

Monroe shrugged. "Is that supposed offend me? Don't forget, I'm a runaway. I had to raise myself practically. I've been called a lot worse. And so have you. But if we're getting personal, I think you should just use specifics. I might be a damned bitch, Clarke, but I'm YOUR damned bitch."

Clarke snorted. This girl was certifiable. She couldn't believe this shit. She then looked at her gun and only then did Monroe tense. Shit. Was Clarke really going to shoot her?

Monroe shook her head. "Clarke," She said carefully, "Don't." There was too much riding on this different timeline. If they started turning on each other...

A small cough caught both Clarke and Monroe's attention, making Monroe turn around and Clarke look past Monroe's shoulder, interrupting the potential danger. It was Wells. He was stepping out from behind the other wall and waving for them to come over. Clarke scowled at Monroe as Monroe turned back to her. "This isn't over."

Monroe nodded. "I didn't expect it to be."

Monroe and Clarke went over to the opposite hallway to join Wells, Niylah and the others and the guards that had moved away from the hallway where Monroe and Clarke had been talking moved back to their places in the hallway.

The guards gave Clarke and Monroe suspicious looks but didn't question what they had been talking about.

When Clarke and Monroe reached the others, they saw that the white-haired man had joined them again. Harper was blushing and looking away from Clarke and Monroe. Clarke ignored her and Monroe looked guiltily at the younger girl. The man greeted them with his usual, mysterious smile and started talking again. Again, there was a low, British accent, much to Clarke's surprise, but she had been sure she had heard that accent when he had talked before. It was just more obvious now. "The queens will be ready in a few moments. So I can take you to see them now."

Clarke came over and nodded. "Good then. Lead the way, I guess." Clarke gave Monroe a cold smile that Monroe didn't respond to and turned back ot the white-haired man.

The man nodded and turned around, leading the way as Clarke had told him to do. Clarke, Niylah, Monroe, Wells and the others followed closely.

Wells was giving Monroe a look that said, (you're going to tell me what's wrong with Clarke at some point, right?)

Monroe sighed. She hated to say it, but she suspected she'd have to tell Wells what had just happened. Clarke was messed up. Like really fucking messed up. She most likely needed more help than just Monroe could give her. If Clarke's best friend and brother could help, then shouldn't Monroe tell him just how bad the situation really was? She nodded to Wells and mouthed, 'later.' Wells looked skeptical, but nodded back.

Pascal looked back at the other guards and saw how they were looking out the windows of the mansion at the setting sun. He followed the others, with Trina next to him as always, but was troubled. Why were the guards so interested in the setting sun? He could tell that that was what had their interest. One of them was looking out the doors, holding the doors open and others were looking the windows.

Pascal turned away, seeing the other guards smirking at them, as if there was something that they couldn't wait for their "guests" to see.

He stepped closer to Trina protectively. If anyone tried to hurt him or one of the others, he'd fight with every inch of strength he had. He hadn't been lying to Clarke when he said he knew how to prioritize. He did. More than Clarke probably thought. He knew he respected Clarke. Sounded like she knew what she was doing, even if she was kind of a hard ass. It looked like she was looking out for all of them. If that meant helping her kept all of them alive, then Pascal would help her.

As they walked, Pascal felt something like a strong metal under the carpet that his feet were hitting. He realized that that must have been what his feet were touching. Hard pieces of metal. Metal tracks. This used to be a Disney ride, so obviously there were metal tracks where the small cars that people had ridden in through this ride. So yeah, tracks under the rug wasn't such a weird thing to find. But it still felt weird under Pascal's feet. While Pascal and Trina, the last of the group in line, walked past the threshold of the room where the white-haired man was leading them, they came to a stop in front of a big room, almost circular, except for a hall that led elsewhere and there was a small, round table up against the wall, with a glass orb in the middle on a round pedestal. In the middle of the room, there were two metal thrones. Both, everyone noticed, empty.

Clarke looked at Niylah and Monroe when she didn't see anyone in those thrones. She then looked at the thrones. There was no one here? "I'm sorry," Clarke said, voice hard as she looked at the white-haired man. "Are these queens invisible?"

"Klark," Niylah whispered, shaking her head. Clarke smirked at her. Did Niylah think anyone was going to control her now? Uh-uh.

The white-haired man turned around, his angular face haughty, a pleasant smirk on his lips. "Please forgive me for not mentioning before," Clarke had noticed before but hearing him now his accent, which as she had noticed before was British sounding-which was really weird, was far more prominent than she had thought. She also noticed something that she hadn't noticed before. Even though the man had some kind of clips around his hair, making the hair block his ears, it looked almost like there were two sharp, points sticking out through the man's man of hair, like he had pointed ears. "One of the queens has a…I suppose you could say, an affliction that needs to be tended to when the sun goes down. One of the queens will be out soon."

"Affliction at night?" Pascal asked, snorting, "What? Is one of the queens a fucking vampire?"

Clarke snickered, laughing. She hadn't expected to find that so funny, but you know what? It was. It really fucking was.

To their surprise, the white-haired man still had a straight face on. He shook his head, "No, not quite." He answered. "She's…different is all. As are her two wives. But you'll see why soon."

Suddenly, outside, there were the clinks of what sounded like stone cracking. It was muffled by the building, but sounded like it was coming from everywhere. Then the sounds of multiple roaring cries made the building rumble. Clarke gasped and gripped her rifle. Everyone else, except for Niylah, gripped at their weapons. Clarke looked to Niylah, looking dubious. Niylah smiled. "It's alright, Klark." Niylah said gently, "You'll see why this tribe is different from the others soon. They're special." Niylah's words didn't put Clarke at ease. Mainly because that roaring animalistic noise outside? It was still going. Roars, similar to roars of tigers or bears snarling their heads off were bellowing outside and it sounded like a whole pride of lions or something had decided to come to the Luwoda tribe to terrorize the Luwoda's guests.

Just then, a woman's cries rang out, then another animal like snarl roared through the room. Clarke kept her rifle close, pulling the safety off the gun. "What the fuck?" She demanded, looking at the white-haired man. Niylah lay her hand over the barrel of Clarke's rifle.

"It's alright, Klark," Niylah repeated. "I told you. The Luwoda are different. They're different because beings that are not human protect them. Remember those statues outside? They weren't statues."

Clarke stared at Niylah. What the fuck? Had…..had Niylah just led them into a trap of some kind?

Wells and Monroe both had their weapons at the ready. "What IS that noise?" Wells asked, nervous.

Niylah smiled, "You'll see." Harper, Fox, Trina and Pascal all clustered close together, Pascal holding the grenades close. Jasper and Monty, both whimpering in mild terror, got closer to Monroe, Niylah and Clarke, hoping they'd be protected.

Monroe went around Clarke's back to stand next to her, so that Clarke was protectively between her and Niylah, with Wells at her back.

When the roaring started to die down, both from outside and from the room up front where they were hearing the noise coming from-Clarke realized that the snarling was similar to leopard, jaguar or panther hissing, there were the sounds of footsteps in the room up front, then the creaking open of a door.

The door to the next room, just behind the thrones was opened up and two figures came through. One of them, as Niylah had warned Clarke, was not human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone should know, Raven and Finn will be fine. Clarke might be thinking about homicidal things right now. But Raven and Finn will be fine.


	17. Defenders of the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer-So do not own this series that I'm about to insert. That belongs to Disney and is written by Greg Weisman. Specifically Gargoyles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, trigger warnings for graphic killing, mentions of skinning of a character and torture and multiple beheadings.

Back on the Ark, Callie watched through the impenetrable, glass ceiling of the room where she was keeping track of Raven's work. Almost as soon as Raven had been done speaking with Clarke, she had gotten into her spacesuit and gone out to the side of the Ark to start doing repairs.

She watched the spacesuit covered hand of Raven Reyes twist the wrench in her hand. So far, so good.

Callie knew that her floating Kane had probably been a hasty move, but she needed him gone. The sooner he was dead, the safer she felt Clarke and Wells would be. So she couldn't regret that. Raven had told Callie where Clarke thought they'd be safest. Amazonia, not far from Brazil.

From what Callie had heard from Clarke on the radio, when Clarke had been speaking with Raven, it sounded like Clarke was a lot tougher than before. But then, she supposed losing one's father and being thrown out of her own home would do that.

Jaha and Kane were out of the way and they now knew what their next location would be. Callie knew better than to ask, "what could go wrong." People asked that and they were basically asking for trouble. Callie heard the doors behind her open up mechanically and heard Abby's disgusted voice. Callie snorted when she heard Abby. Speaking of trouble.

"What were you thinking? Killing Kane today? You didn't HAVE to kill him!" Abby raved, eyes big, enraged.

Callie forced herself not to roll her eyes as she turned around to face Abby. Abby always tried to make herself above everyone else. Even though she was a petty, backstabbing liar. No better than Jaha himself. Or Kane.

"And what would you have had me do, Abby?" Callie asked, keeping her voice calm. "Spare a murderer? A traitor? A REAL traitor, unlike your husband who was just trying to protect the people of the Ark?"

Abby reeled back from the comment as she had before. But this time her face hardened. "You can keep trying to use that against me. But what you did was wrong, Callie. Kane could have been reasoned with."

Callie looked at Abby skeptically. "Reasoned with? He murdered Thelonius. In his sleep. That's not someone that can be reasoned with. That's someone that needs to be kept away from everyone else."

"And we could have!" Abby snapped. "We could have kept Kane away from everyone else, all we had to do was keep him locked up in the skybox. You didn't have to execute him!"

Callie smirked, "It's funny how on that last part of what you said, that you said 'you' didn't have to kill him. As if I'm the only one that got Kane killed. But don't forget, Abby, we killed him together. You created the circumstances that led to Kane's death. And to Jaha's death. If you hadn't sold Jake Griffin out, there wouldn't have been an opportunity for Jaha to be shot. And if Jaha hadn't been shot, Kane wouldn't have been able to kill him in his sleep. And if he hadn't killed Jaha in his sleep, well, we wouldn't be in this situation, would we now? It's almost like you got Kane killed just as much as I did."

Abby looked like Callie had hit her. Callie smirked at Abby. "Don't act so smug, Abby. If you really loved Jake like you said, you never would have told Jaha about him trying to warn the rest of the Ark. And if you really loved Clarke like a mother's supposed to, you would never have let Jaha know that Clarke knew about the flaw in the Ark."

Callie kept up, her smirk turning into a sad smile. "You sold out your husband. You sold out your daughter. And you sold out your daughter's best friend, because Wells would never have attacked a guard if Clarke hadn't been sent to Earth in the first place." Callie watched as Abby shrunk back further and further. "All this? It's your fault, Abby."

Abby, having been lectured into submission, turned away, looking ashamed. Callie turned away from her and went past her out the door. She was going to ready the guards. Her guards. It would take up to four hours to get from here to Amazonia and an additional hour to touch down to the ground.

So five hours. Callie thought about what Clarke had told Raven. Clarke had mentioned that they were somewhere else now. Disneyworld. Apparently. Sure, it seemed like a joke, but Clarke claimed that it wasn't a joke. She said they were in Disneyworld, Florida now. Callie turned around and went back into the room where Abby was, picking up the radio, then going out of the room again, ignoring Abby's surprised look at Callie gathering up the radio.

Callie talked into the radio. She wanted to know where Clarke and Wells were. And she wanted to hear their voices again. "Clarke, Wells, sweeties, are you both there?" She waited as she walked, hearing static come through the speaker of the radio.

Then Clarke's voice came through. "Uh…..Callie, can't talk right now. This is…wow. We'll…get back to you, okay?"

Callie stared at the radio, not walking anymore, alarmed. What was happening here? "Clarke?" Callie asked into the radio, nervousness obvious in her voice. "Clarke, are you and Wells alright?"

Clarke said, still sounding uneasy, "We're alright. Just-just very confused. We'll get back to you. But we're fine, okay?"

Callie frowned. That didn't help. "Can you tell me where you and Wells are now?"

There was more hesitation, then Clarke answered, "We're still in Florida. Still in Disneyworld. Just wait for us to meet with you in Amazonia. Okay? I have to go right now."

Callie lowered the radio in her hand, staring at it. What the hell had just happened? Callie didn't want to think about this, but Clarke had sounded frightened. Uncertain. Why? What had scared her? And that something that had scared her was something going on that needed Clarke's attention.

Callie heard the radio go silent and went down the hall fast. New plan. She wasn't going to order the pilots to go for Amazonia, South America. Not yet. There would be a two-hour flight to Florida. She wouldn't have the Ark touch down to the ground yet, not until Clarke gave her the go-ahead. But she needed to get the Ark to Florida. She needed their forces to be close to where her children were. If these people hurt either Clarke or Wells, she wanted the guards to be nearby where she could order them to protect her children.

Back in Florida, Earth, Clarke made sure that Callie didn't have anything else to ask when the radio went silent. She put the radio back onto the hem of her pocket, switching the radio off in addition, wanting to make sure they had silence as the two figures approached. Clarke had told Callie what she could. But still, her eyes couldn't pull away from the blue figure next to the dark-skinned woman.

Both figures were women. One of them was obviously human. Hair black, so black that it was almost a glossy dark blue color. She was brown-skinned. Clarke wasn't going to assume her ethnicity, but possibly Latina. The woman next to her, on the other hand, without question, was NOT human. She was light blue in color. Had dark blue wings that were caped around her shoulders and the edges hung just above the floor. She had a long, thick, light blue tail. She had a mass of wild, dark red hair that went down to the middle of her back, a gold tiara on her brow, just above her eyes. She was muscled, despite being slim. There was a gold thin ban around her right arm. Her upper torso and lower torso were covered with cloth garments. Around her waist, a white loincloth, around her chest, a white, cloth brazier type of covering.

The blue non-human woman turned her attention on the newcomers in front of her, smiling at their shock, a flash of polished white fangs showing off. Her eyes black bounced from one person to another that had been brought to her. She turned then to the white-haired man that had led them here and nodded for him to leave. "Puck," She said coolly, "You've done well. Now leave us."

The white-haired man nodded to her and left. The group of humans in front of her stared at the being standing there before them. The blue gargoyle smiled at them.

"Impressed, are you? Or afraid?" She asked the humans. "I wouldn't be surprised if you're afraid. Humans seem very quick to fear and hate, after all."

Clarke stared at this woman. What the fuck? Who or what was this woman? She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. "I'm sorry," She said quietly, "I really hope I'm not sounding rude when I'm asking this, but what are you?"

The blue gargoyle laughed, her laughter thick and rich. "You really ARE new to this world, aren't you? Then again, most of the tribes don't like talking about us. I, naïve one, am a gargoyle." The blue woman stared intently at the blonde girl who spoke. "I'm sure you saw all those statues outside. Those were gargoyles. We shed our stone skin at night. And you are privy to seeing the results." She held up he right hand, showing off her talons. She smirked, showing her sharp, white fangs. "I'm sure this is all a shock to all of you. But I must ask you to get used to it. The sooner you do, the sooner you will be on your way, as we've had it explained?" The redheaded, blue gargoyle looked at Niylah who nodded.

The woman next to the blue gargoyle, the dark-skinned woman with the almost blue-black hair chuckled, smiling at the still shocked kids in front of them, gripping their firearms, "Demona, I think you scared the crap out of them." The woman turned to the vagabonds that had come into their land.

"Sorry about not introducing ourselves." The woman gestured to herself, "I'm Elisa." She nodded to the gargoyle she had named "Demona," "This is my wife, Demona. Our other wife, Fox, is sending second lieutenant out to get the boats." Elisa smirked at the kids. "I always wondered what the Ark people were like. From the looks of your clothing, you're not that different from the people I grew up with. Or the era I grew up in."

Clarke looked at Niylah, searching for answers. The 'era' this woman grew up in? Wait, was this "Elisa" saying that she was a lot older than she looked?

Niylah smiled at Clarke, "I'll explain everything later." She promised Clarke in Trigedasleng.

Clarke shook her head. Well, wasn't THAT convenient?

Demona saw the interaction and chuckled. "I know you all have questions. But I'll give you the short answer for everything. Magic. Now, I think we should see all of you to your rooms. And Niylah kom Trikru can explain everything there."

On the paths of the Trikru land, Onya had devised a plan as she and Sekena had spoken at great detail about what Klark was like. When the two of them and their warriors were about to cross the barrier between the Trikru's land and the Podakru's land, on their way to the Luwoda's land, Onya knew at that moment that she couldn't allow any of the 100 that Klark had left behind to live. They were dangerous. Belomi especially was dangerous. His betrayal had ended Klark's life.

So she would have to find a way of killing all of them. Especially Belomi.

So when they were about to take their horses across the Podakru's land, Onya pulled out a sheet of leather, which her people often used as writing materials, and pulled out her small inkpot that was in her pouch. She snapped off a twig, the sharp end up and stuck the sharp end into the inkpot and began writing on the leather sheet as her warriors calculated how long it would take to get from here to the Luwoda's land.

Sekena tilted her head as she watched her esteemed general write a letter out in the Trikru's native language, addressing Diflan and Korten, the Polis jailers in her letter.

"Onya?" Sekena asked gently, looking confused. "Why are you writing a letter to Korten and Diflan?"

Onya turned her head to Sekena as she wrote. "I am protecting Klark from threats. If I must use the Commander's will to get it done, then I will do it."

Sekena's eyes widened. She was starting to doubt Onya's promise that everything the other woman had told her was true less and less. Why should she doubt it? Had Onya ever exhibited proof of being mad before now? Had she ever made up any stories of previous worlds before? No. And why would Onya go to such lengths to protect a girl that Sekena had no memory of, unless what Onya said happened actually happened?

No, as disturbing as Onya's behavior might be now, there was no reason why Sekena should doubt Onya's mental stability.

If Onya said that there was a girl-child that Sekena had come to love as her own daughter, then Sekena believed her. But what was Onya doing now?

As Sekena read the words that Onya wrote out, her eyes grew huge and her mouth slack. Onya was going to make sure that the recent prisoners were going to be killed? She looked at Onya, shocked. Onya was going behind the Commander's back to keep this 'Klark' safe? Sekena stared at the letter. Just who WAS this Klark? Onya had told Sekena a great deal about Klark, but even with all this information, Sekena couldn't comprehend who would ever get Onya to the point that she would betray her Heda and at one time Second.

After detailing what was to be done, Onya waited for the ink to dry and pulled out the ring that Leksa had given her two years ago, making her the bearer of the Commander's symbol. Onya dipped the sigil of the Commander into the inkpot and pulled the ring out and slammed the sigil into the paper, just below the instructions in the letter, giving the last touch of the Commander's sign.

Onya then tossed the piece of twig onto the forest floor, discarding it. She then dropped her ring back into her pouch and closed the pouch up. She watched as the ink of the sign began to dry up. She capped the inkpot and put it back into another pouch and closed that pouch up. She then pulled out a plastic tube where the letter was to go for it to have a safe journey from here to Polis.

After Onya was sure that the ink was all dried up, she rolled up the leather sheet and stuffed it into the plastic tube. She capped the plastic tube and rose up, walking over to one of the nearest guards. She told him that Leksa had given her the scroll and that he was to deliver it to Polis and to the guards Diflan and Korten.

The guard Onya gave the scroll to, Mefert, bowed his head and jumped onto his horse and rode off, heading to Polis. As he departed from their group, Onya walked back to Sekena.

Sekena shook her head, smirking. To tell Mefert that the Commander herself had ordered this scroll to be delivered to the jailors of Polis and therefore, the Commander was giving the order to kill the 100? That was an unspeakable treachery. Sekena felt a laugh coming out of her quietly, "This has to be the most deceitful thing I've ever seen you do, Onya."

Onya nodded, smirking. "I'm doing what I need to do. I'm going to keep my beloved safe."

Sekena nodded. "Alright." She said. "So we're going to make sure that the 100 are killed. What happens after that?"

Onya smirked. "We join Klark, obviously. Tell me, do you have any reason to stay with the Trikru?"

Sekena opened her mouth to protest, stunned that Onya would suggest them leave their tribe for someone as far as Sekena knew, was a stranger. But then she thought about Onya's question. Now that Sekena thought about it, no, she couldn't think of any reason to stay with the Trikru.

Sekena's mother and father were both a non-issue. Her mother had died giving birth to Sekena. So Sekena's father had blamed her all throughout Sekena's life, until Sekena slit his throat in his sleep, leaving the dagger of one of Sekena's enemies by his bed, making it look like said enemy, Brakoe, someone who had made more than a few rape threats against her, had been the one to kill her father, in order to take advantage of her.

It had worked, and Sekena had ensured both her abusive father's death and the would-be rapist, Brakoe's death in one swoop, and watched with a cold smile as Brakoe was cut to pieces as he was tied up against a wooden stake.

She had no siblings to speak of. And her few lovers had been disappointments. According to Onya, this "Klark" was as close as Sekena had to a child. A daughter. It seemed if there was ever a reason to leave her tribe, Klark was it for both Sekena and Onya.

"When do we leave?" Sekena asked, not believing her own words.

"Tonight." Onya answered, packing up what she needed, fast. "As soon as everyone is asleep, the two of us will leave with a small group of troops most loyal to us and we'll find Klark."

Sekena nodded. No, Onya had never been this serious about a betrayal ever. And she had never even considered betraying Heda, till now. Which meant that this Klark was real. And Onya truly was going to betray Heda to find her. Which meant that the events that Onya had described to Sekena, truly had occurred. Even though they hadn't happened in THIS world. Or perhaps had been a prophecy that the god of visions, Kanvakar had given Onya. But then, that would be unlikely, wouldn't it? Story had it that when an individual was chosen for Kanvakar's visions, they would have the visions since childhood. Onya had exhibited no visions till now. Which meant Onya being capable of prophecies was incredibly improbable. So then, it was Aldey, was it? Goddess of time?

It seemed like the only possibility they were left with.

Sekena nodded to Onya. "Give me time to pack my things." She said to her general. "I should be prepared by tonight."

Sekena turned to her pack as the different warriors spoke, distracted. She made sure to pack only what she needed. Extra food, extra canteens of water, a compass, maps, steel and flint, her knives, her daggers, her bow and quiver of arrows and her hatchet.

She packed everything up and put the packs over her horse, Talak. Onya did the same, bringing packs of her belongings to her horse, Dofren and threw the packs over Dofren's back. Onya met Sekena's gaze and they understood each other. They'd leave at nightfall, with their warriors.

In what used to be called Disneyworld, Florida, the group that were the guests of the Luwoda, led by three apparently ancient-but not appearing ancient women, were escorted to their bunks by the Luwoda guards.

Clarke watched the different guards escort the other members of her group to their rooms. Clarke announced to the rest of the people in her group, "You all need to contact me if anything goes wrong." She looked right at Pascal, deciding that out of all the group that weren't Wells, Monroe and Niylah, he was the one who could be the most trustworthy of them. "You watch out and let me know if anything's wrong, okay, Pascal?"

Pascal seemed to get the point and nodded. "Alright." He glanced uneasily at the guards, then turned back to Clarke and smiled. "You got it, boss." He and Trina went off to their room, holding their weapons close as they went in. Monty and Jasper looked at each other, uneasily, then turned back to Clarke.

"We'll help too, if you need us, Clarke." Jasper told Clarke. Clarke fought a smirk. She really, really didn't feel that reassured by Jasper's promises. He was weak. A little shit that basically was asking to be kicked. But she just gave him a nod to indicate that she was alright with his presence, even though she was just tolerating him. What a worthless little shit. But she knuckled down her anger. AGAIN. Cause of fucking course, she always had to.

When Monty and Jasper disappeared into their room, Clarke breathed in relief. At least she didn't need to think about how much she still wanted to bash Jasper's head in to a bloody pulp-the traitorous, little bastard.

She felt eyes on her and she turned, finding Monroe's eyes on her yet again, watching her watch Jasper.

Clarke turned away from her, scowling. Harper and Fox went to their own room, Harper looking at Clarke almost regretfully. Clarke grimaced. Harper obviously had decided that she would like to try at some kind of relationship with Clarke, without any strings attached. Clarke supposed it was a good thing that Monroe had spared Harper that. Clarke wasn't sure she wouldn't deliberately try to corrupt Harper with her darkness. In hindsight, Clarke realized that Harper-had the other girl gotten into a relationship with Clarke, would have gotten way in over her head. Harper was a nice girl, but she was too nice and naïve for her own good. Heh, Clarke would have emotionally ripped Harper's heart out and eaten it (metaphorically speaking, obviously).

Finn looked at Clarke, forlorn and Clarke rolled her eyes. "In your dreams, Collins." She said dryly. "You run off and jerkoff in your own room, dumbass."

Finn winced and went into the room. Wells looked Clarke's way. "I'll keep an eye on him." He promised Clarke. Clarke nodded.

Clarke added, gesturing to the weapons in Wells's hands. "You hang onto those weapons, brother."

Wells nodded. He gestured with the barrel of his gun at Clarke's own weapons. "You do the same, sis." Clarke smiled in appreciation as Wells and Finn disappeared into their room.

Monroe and Clarke looked at each other. Then Clarke looked at Niylah, smirking at them both.

"So, you two wanna share a room with me, or what?" Clarke asked suggestively.

Niylah nodded to Clarke. "When you are of age, yes. However, until then, I will be spending my time in a separate room."

Clarke immediately rolled her eyes. "Fuck," She groaned. "You guys are such killjoys. Fine. Whatever. I'll share a room with Monroe, I guess." She gave Monroe a suggestive look, but Monroe wasn't fazed.

Monroe said simply, "If there's only one bed, I'll sleep on the floor." They knew that there was no chance of that. The leaders here had assured them that there were two beds in each room.

"There's no concern about there being too few rooms." One of the guards, Wentow said, looking at Clarke. "We put a third bed into a room, when we saw there was an uneven number amongst your group."

"So I will be sharing a room with them?" Niylah asked. The guard nodded. Niylah turned to the curious Clarke. "I will share this room with you, then. But I will NOT touch you."

Clarke scowled, shaking her head. "Fuck."

The three of them were escorted into their room, Clarke scowling the whole time and only after the door closed behind them, pulled the strap of her gun off of her and placed it down onto the bed on the left-hand side of the room. She said coldly as she unpacked her belongings, "The two of you are more trouble than you're worth."

"And you're worth all the trouble in the world, Klark." Niylah said, undoing her belt of knives and putting them down on the table next to her bed, looking at Klark with meaning. "We're going to keep you safe and help you. And that includes not touching you when touching you in the way you're demanding is bad for you."

"And who says it's bad for me? The two of you? Huh?" Clarke sneered, smirking.

"Why would it be good for you?" Monroe asked, putting her guns and knives onto the bedside table next to her bed. "Because you can use sex as a way of forgetting everything? Of not feeling anything? That's not a long-term solution. And you know that. And we sure as hell aren't going to let you get involved with an adult, so long as you're not an adult."

Clarke snorted and rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Even if it's not a long-term solution, so what? It's a way of not having to feel trauma. Or being distracted from it. Is that so wrong? Some people use drugs. Some people use actual punching bags, some people use other people as punching bags. I think casual, consensual sex is one of the more innocent ways of dealing with trauma."

"Sure it is," Monroe said, "When you admit that it's just a temporary solution and you have a plan afterwards. And that you're not just doing it to distance yourself from everything. Are you planning on ever having relationships again? I don't just mean romantic relationships. I mean, of any kind of relationship? Or are you going to just have casual sex and push everyone else away for the rest of your life?"

Clarke snapped her head back to Monroe, glaring. "Whose fucking business is that of yours, Monroe? It's my own business, so fuck off."

"Actually it IS my business." Monroe said, sitting down on the bed, facing Clarke, face surprisingly mature, despite her age and past years of immaturity-Clarke was sure there had been many immature actions Monroe had taken. Monroe continued, "It's not my business because I love you. I DO love you, but your choices aren't my business because of that. I don't get to tell you what to do. But because I want our people to survive, and because you're our best hope of our people surviving, what you do, the choices you make are very much my business."

Clarke scowled. "I'll sleep with who I want, when I want. Or are you going to stop me from sleeping with anyone I come across? Even total strangers?" Monroe looked away, sighing. Her lower jaw tightened, hoping Clarke didn't see that her question hurt. Clarke would rather fuck a complete stranger than even try to have a relationship with her and Niylah? Or maybe that was just what Clarke wanted her to believe.

Monroe answered, looking at Clarke, "I won't stop you from sleeping with people, not if you want to sleep with them. But you're not having sex with Harper or any of the others. And you won't do it with adults, until you're a full-grown adult. But that's it. I won't stop you, if you want to have casual sex. That's your own choice." She knew she heard the bitterness in her voice and she doubted that Clarke missed it.

She saw Clarke's eyes narrowed and for a second, she saw a flash of guilt cross Clarke's face, or thought she saw it.

Clarke then looked away and grumbled, "Oh, thank you so much, your highness, I'm so glad you're giving me permission to do what I want."

Monroe sighed. She turned to Niylah. Niylah didn't look troubled. The oldest of the three of them seemed calm. Far too calm. She smiled and gave Monroe a look that both sparked Monroe's interest, and worried her.

Niylah smirked and nodded to Monroe. The look on Niylah's face seemed to speak the words, "It'll be alright," in loud volumes. Monroe wasn't sure if she should trust Niylah's confidence, but for some reason, she did.

Monroe then added, deciding they needed to establish this one issue fast, "So, magic exists, huh? Funny how we never knew that before."

"Yeah." Clarke said. "Then again, there were a lot of really fucking important things back then we should have known of that we didn't." Clarke turned to Niylah. "You knew, right? You know stuff. What more do you know about magic? And about those two women and the other queen?"

Niylah tilted her head up at Clarke. "The blue gargoyle you saw, Demona? She's many more centuries old than two or three centuries. She's been around for a long, long time. Her longevity comes from three witches. They call themselves the "Weird Sisters." Demona also was bonded to another being until that bond was magically altered so that it was instead, bonded to her wives, Elisa and Fox. In her possession, Demona has supposedly several magical artifacts. And she, for a time, was the enemy of the ancestors of many gargoyles that are in this tribe today. A gargoyle clan that used to live in the Trikru's land. Specifically the part of Trikru land called "York City.""

"New York City." Clarke said, "And this clan? Their descendants live here now?"

Niylah nodded. "There are pictures and tapestries about the original clan that lived in York City centuries ago. Those pictures and tapestries are in some of the halls of the other buildings. The ones where you say the 'rides' are? Those pictures and tapestries are there."

Clarke nodded. "Alright. Anything else?"

"Yes," Niylah answered, "The descendants of the original clan in York City-many of them are Demona's descendants. Because Demona had a daughter in that original clan. And Queen Elisa? She used to be an ally of the clan that Demona was enemies of back in York City."

Clarke looked like she was thinking on this. "So Demona and Elisa were originally enemies, huh?"

"That's right." Niylah answered.

Clarke snickered. "Well, I guess that's one enemy that stayed allied." She shook her head. "I guess SOME alliances have to last. Just not mine." She turned away and unloaded the rest of her belongings. Monroe and Niylah shared a troubled look as Clarke kept acting nonchalant.

Across the hall from the rooms where Clarke, Monroe, Niylah, Wells and the others were bunking for the night, two of the three queens of the Luwoda, Demona and Elisa went to their bed together, as they did every night since they had first fallen in love all those centuries ago.

Demona's sleep schedule had always been off ever since Puck's spell on her centuries ago. She had neglected to tell her guests here that she turned into a human during the day. She was fine with letting them think that she turned to stone during the day like the rest of her kind.

She would take a nap after sex with her wife, but it wouldn't be a long one. She slept at odd hours, more than anything else.

Elisa dropped onto her rear on the side of the bed, next to where Demona sat. She faced the blue gargoyle. "So what are you thinking about doing about the people that came here from the Trikru area?" Elisa asked Demona.

Demona shook her head, dark red-black hair fluttering against her muscled, blue shoulders. "Does it matter?" Demona asked, chuckling. "They require help. And we're giving it. That's all. We'll provide them the boats they need."

Elisa nodded. "And if they need to stay?"

Demona lifted her eyebrows up against her gold tiara. "Stay? You would like these people to stay? We don't know anything about them."

Elisa nodded. "We don't." She agreed. "But we have preparations, if they're not to be trusted. We have magic, we have weapons, we have armies. Would it really be so bad to help people who need help?"

Demona sighed, tilting her head against her left fist, as she propped her left arm on the bed. "You're trying to appeal to my 'better' gargoyle nature?" Demona sked, smirking. "I think we both know that that nature rarely comes out. Even nowadays."

Elisa smiled. "I'm not asking you to be selfless." She said. "I'm just asking you to consider helping some kids that obviously need help and want their people to survive. Don't forget, if these Ark people don't survive, it's the end of an entire clan of people."

Demona smirked. "But not the end of humanity," She said dryly, "There are humans all over the world, still. Regretfully."

Elisa chuckled. "But we're not talking about humanity in general, are we?" She asked her wife, "We're talking about one group of people. I know you have a hard time disbelieving that all human groups are the same. But maybe these people can be a help to us too. If they join us, we'll have a new army. If they don't? Then we'll send them on their way. And we'll be helping people."

At Elisa's urgent smile, Demona groaned. She could never deny Elisa anything. "Very well." She said begrudgingly. "I will help them. But if they betray us-"

Elisa smiled wider, leaning down and kissing Demona. "Thank you, Demona." She whispered as they parted.

Demona chuckled, taking Elisa into her arms and having the human straddle her. "What am I going to do with you?" Demona said in a mock dramatic tone, as she began helping Elisa remove her clothing.

Back in the Trikru area, where Onya and Sekena were located, the rest of the band of Trikru, were sleeping soundly. Most of them were wrapped up in their furs and sleeping next to their horses. Some of them were sleeping in various tents around the campsite. Onya had told everyone at the campsite that she and Sekena would take the first watch. This, of course, was a way of getting the rest of the band to go to sleep quicker, so that Onya and Sekena would be awake and have the chance to sneak off with their horses and supplies.

So now that the rest of the band was asleep, Onya led her horse by the reins and walked away from the band, Sekena following after her. The few warriors that Onya had known already would be willing to follow Onya into hell, were following after the two of them.

Onya turned to those warriors and said to them quietly, "You must mean your loyalty to me when we go find the person we're looking for," She told them. "You betray me, and you'll wish that Heda was the one that killed you."

All of Onya's most loyal warriors nodded and got up on their horses. Onya did as well, and so did Sekena. They eventually left, the horses picking up speed, and they fled the sleeping band of warriors.

Onya and Sekena's group was made up of eleven fighters, not including Onya and Sekena themselves.

Onya had been relieved to learn that her second in command, twenty-six-year-old Sathna, one of her best warriors, and had been almost as good a fighter as Onya herself-was coming along. Sathna, a daughter of one of the nearest villages here, was a fear to witness in a battle. And as Onya recalled, had formed a great deal of respect for Klark even before Klark had become Wanheda.

Flanking Onya's left side, were Sekena and Sathna. And next to Sathna, was the warrior and great archer, nineteen-year-old Mardo kom Boudalan. The great-grandson of one of the previous Commanders. It was rare for Commanders to have children, but when they did, the offspring were treated with immense respect. Mardo himself, had decided to not want to rely on the praises of others to help him become a better warrior. He had made himself a better warrior and master archer.

Next to Mardo, was Lethena kom Ingranrona. Young, wild and deadly, Lethena was like a spitfire, leaping from one battle to the next, able to get a horse to listen to her just with a few slices of apple and urgent kicks to the sides and the twenty-one-year-old woman one of the most spry, frightening forces of nature many elders of the Ingranrona had ever seen.

Next to Lethena, was Auden kom Poda. The thirty-one-year-old, spiked mace wielding warrior had gone up in ranks over the years quite fast, and was one of the most loyal fighters one could ask for.

Next to Auden, was the twenty-eight-year-old Rafa kom Trikru. Born and raised amongst the Trikru warriors, she was a stealthy, quick and deadly sight to behold. There were some suspicions about how she had gotten to where she got so quickly, when it was known that the leader of her village loathed her, because her mother had spurned him. However, no one spoke a word against Rafa when the leader of that village, Geti, had died in a hunting accident. Curious thing, that.

Onya didn't care what Rafa may or may not have done to Geti. She needed Rafa now, more than ever.

Flanking Onya's other side, closest to Onya, was the almost forty-year-old Kolak kom Trikru. Kolak was gruff and grumpy, but he was a good warrior to have around. Loyal, reliable, strong and dexterous. He was exactly who someone would want alongside them during a vicious battle.

Next to Kolak on his other side, opposite of Onya, was the twenty-nine-year-old Forna kom Azgeda. All groups of a general came from all over the different tribes. Most tribes were hesitant to let members of the Azgeda tribe end up in their different bands, as Azgeda was considered particularly untrustworthy and particularly vicious. However, Onya had discovered a good and loyal friend in Forna, and what was more, a powerful force for her band in her as well.

Next to Forna, opposite of Kolak, was the seventeen-year-old Hadvenk kom Trishana. The boy was from the same tribe as Onya's mother. And so she had taken him under her wing as soon as she had learned of his village's providence. However, given that she had done so, the boy had become eternally loyal to her. His mother and father had been killed by the Mountain Men and he had no brothers or sisters and had no other family. So for him, Onya and these other warriors with them at the moment, were his family.

Next to Hadvenk, was the twenty-three-year-old Jakora kom Ingranrona. An excellent strategist. Onya would be hesitant to say this, but possibly even a better strategist than she herself, and Klark even.

Next to Jakora, opposite of Hadvenk, was the twenty-four-year-old Dontor. Like Hadvenk, had been an orphan amongst the Trikru, though supposedly originally from Floukru land, he had wandered into Trikru land and had been taken in. Onya had brought him into her band. And he considered these nine other warriors, Sekena and Onya his family. It helped that he had become a great warrior quickly throughout the years.

Next to Dontor, was the twenty-year-old Eltesa kom Azgeda. Feared even by many Azgeda warriors, Eltesa had learned at a very young age, that the best way of keeping the dangers of the Ice Nation away from her, was to be a vicious force of nature. However, when Eltesa had killed a pack of wolves attacking Onya, almost getting killed herself and earning multiple scars from the wolves' fangs, Onya had put her faith in the girl for life.

Onya trusted these eleven and Sekena only. The rest of the band, she knew, were too loyal to the Commander. As soon as they caught wind of Onya's betrayal, they would run to the Commander first chance they got. Not out of spite, no. But because their commander came first.

Onya knew that there had been one time when she had been the same way. She had been foolish and naïve. She hadn't realized that the only thing to be loyal to, was honor. She had worshipped the Commander's status, as they all had. But she saw better now. It was now time for her to correct those mistakes on her part.

The irony had not been missed by her that these warriors with her, including Sekena, were all warriors who had come to admire Klark, during their time knowing her in Polis and Ton DC. The rest of the band of warriors that Onya left behind, were the warriors that had been killed in the ring of fire that Klark had ordered invented. All three hundred of those warriors were not present. The rest of them were back closer to the area where the dropship had landed. But they were leaving behind at least eighty-three of them.

These warriors here with Onya, they were her most trusted companions. They might not have remembered Klark, but she had no doubt that they would listen to Klark's orders, when she gave them one, as long as Onya told them to.

Onya had kept track of the events mentally. Tris had been called for to help Onya a few months after the Sky Peoples' 100 had landed. As long as Onya made sure that Tris stayed at home and gave Klark a reason to trust her, she doubted that Tris would die. She just had to make sure the events that had happened before, didn't happen again.

The thirteen riders had their horses gallop from the forest and through the valley as the sky darkened more and more. They knew they didn't have to worry about Ripas or Mountain Men, as they were going further from those parts of the woods and valleys than before.

It was why their band had felt reassured about sleeping where they had been sleeping.

As they rode, Lethena called over to Onya, "General, are you sure you're alright with leaving the others back there? Are you sure you want to leave them behind permanently?"

Onya asked, smirking over her shoulder at Lethena, before looking back at the dark path ahead, "Having second thoughts, Lethena?"

Lethena smirked back at Onya, shaking her head. "Not on your life, general! I just want to be sure that that's what you want."

Onya nodded, not facing any of her warriors. "I know what to do, lieutenant. And as long as all of you are with me, I'm sure I'll succeed."

Eltesa barked out a laugh. "Lead on, general!" She crowed, "I never trusted the Commanders anyway! This should be a good notch in our belts! The great betrayers of the Commander!"

Onya felt a laugh bubble in her throat when she heard the others laugh around her, including the great grandson of one of the previous commanders, Mardo himself. It sounded like they were all alright with this dark plan. Onya grinned. She couldn't complain, could she?

In the capital of the tribespeople's land, the capital known as Polis, the messenger, named Mefert, had delivered the scroll at a surprising speed. He had taken the fastest horse in Onya's band of warriors and had delivered the scroll to the two jailors, Diflan and Kortek.

Diflan and Kortek opened up the scroll and read the contents, dismissing Mefert. As Mefert left and Diflan and Kortek read the scroll, they looked at each other, nodded to each other, tossed the letter to the floor, pulled out their razor-sharp knives and approached the cells of their prisoners.

Diflan was the first to reach the closest cell. The cell of a boy who he had heard be named "Mofi." He opened the door up and came in.

Sitting and stewing in his cell, was John Murphy. He kicked his empty bowl that he had cleaned of the few scraps of food provided to him. He felt like he could curse, yet again, when he heard the clanking of a cage door opening up. He lifted his head and his eyes widened as two figures came in, both bearing big, sharp knives.

"The fuck are you two doing?!" He demanded, backing up against the stone wall of his cage.

The bigger of the two of them announced proudly, "You are hereby sentenced to die, Mofi kom Skaikru, in the name of Heda."

Murphy gasped, trying to bolt, but immediately grabbed by the other guard, his arm being twisted back so hard, his bones came out of his socket and he cried a shriek that bounced off the walls as the bigger guard slammed his knife deep into Murphy's throat, cutting Murphy's throat right out and watching as he bled out over the floor.

As Murphy's mind started fading, eyes rolling up as he died, he thought to himself, (fuck, go figure that I died like this).

Next, Kortek and Diflan moved to the next cell, where the woman, Roma was being kept. They proceeded to slit her throat and let her bleed out. When they were sure she was dead, they moved to the next few cells. In minutes, they had decapitated all five Nathan Miller, Diggs, Myles, Connor and Atom. They moved on to kill seven more people. Heads were sliced off. Throats were cut. Hearts were cut out. People were sliced in half.

They eventually reached the cell of the girl named Oktevia. They knew that she had been brought in later. But the Commander's letter had been specific. None of them were to be spared. They went into Oktevia's cell and smirked as Oktevia stared at them, backing away. Though she was already badly beaten up-apparently another one of the 100 sky people that had come down, had beaten Oktevia up before leaving. It didn't matter to Kortek or Diflan. They would kill her regardless of previous damage.

Diflan held Oktevia down as Kortek, cut her head off, slicing the brunette's head off with one stroke of his machete.

Oktevia, as they had learned, was the younger sister of the leader of the 100. So they would use her head as a way of tormenting him.

They picked Oktevia's head off the floor from where it had fallen after being severed from her neck, by the head's hair and carried it to the now dead girl's brother's cell.

Finally, they reached the cell of the self-acclaimed leader of the now slaughtered 100. The man known as Belomi. ((

They opened the door of his cell and threw Oktevia's head at his feet. The head rolled along the stone floor, till it reached Belomi's feet.

Diflan and Kortek watched, gleeful grins crossing their faces as the arrogant little pig that was Belomi stared down in horror at the severed head of his sister and started to raise his head to stare at the men who had thrown it at him.

"What…". He whispered, brown eyes wide, paling as he spoke, "What the fuck have you done?"

"I'd have thought it was obvious, you pathetic worm," Kortek sneered. "We killed your sister. Decapitated her. Do you like what we've done?"

The ugly, freckled worm clenched his teeth and his fists balled up.

"Oh, no," Kortek laughed to Diflan, "I don't think he liked our gift!"

Diflan snickered. "Too bad. It's the only gift he's going to get. And the last one he'll ever have."

The two guards closed in on Belomi, gleeful still.

This was rare of the two guards. Really, it was. Normally, neither Diflan, nor Kortek would ever kill someone as sadistically as they were about to. Normally when ordered to kill prisoners, they did it quickly, as they had with all of the other prisoners that they had killed before reaching this cell, including Oktevia.

But this thing? This wretch that had been locked up here with his little gang? He was a low life of the worst sort. The type that would cut a friend's throat, all so he could feel superior to everyone else. He was totally without honor. Weak. Stupid.

They would feel nothing over killing him. Helped that they found him quite ugly.

It was there and then that Bellamy Blake, the only one time leader of the low life group of teenagers, known as the 100, screamed and cursed as his skin was slowly flayed off his bones. His lips were cut off. His teeth were ripped off. His ears cut off. His nose cut off. His tongue cut out as he screamed at them for murdering his little sister. They cut his hands off. They cut off his feet. And finally, they peeled all his skin right off. As he bled out, his body a mass of exposed nerve endings, tendons, blood, meat and muscle, he stared right at them and even though his tongue had been taken, he still conveyed the look to the two guards standing over him, smirking. The question in his offended brown eyes said one question. Why?

Kortek leaned forward, his dark-skinned face, centimeters from the low life. "Because," He told the other man in perfect Gonasleng, "You are the oldest of this group. You were supposed to protect them. And you abused them instead. We killed them quickly, so that they couldn't suffer anymore. But you, Belomi, brother of Oktevia, you are going to suffer. Repeatedly."

Bellamy stared up in horror at them. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever imagined he would die this way.

In all his fantasies of being powerful, of being top-dog, had ever dreamed of being skinned alive and tortured some more.

He had dreamed of becoming chancellor one day and getting to kill who he wanted to kill.

Fuck as many beautiful teenage girls as he wanted to fuck. The younger the better. Especially if they were developing.

And no one would stop him.

But he never had imagined this. Not even close. This wasn't fair! He finally had power! He finally had had a piece of the fucking pie like he deserved for serving as a guard for so long.

And this was his reward? For finally landing on top? Losing his mom? Seeing all the people that should have been his servants get killed right next to him and he could do nothing? And his sister, his little sister who he had always sworn to protect, was decapitated. Her head rotting in the corner of the cell, opposite of him. And now he was going to be killed slowly.

(What the fuck did I do to deserve this?) This was Bellamy Blake's last thought, before Diflan lowered his knife to Bellamy's throat and started cutting.

Sawing, sawing and sawing, back and forth. Back and forth. The knife sawed into Bellamy's neck over and over again. Bellamy felt everything. Every little shred, he felt. It was agony.

He screamed for mercy as his head was slowly sawed off, even though he couldn't form any words.

The last thing that Bellamy Blake knew in this life, was agonizing pain, and desperation for the release of death.

If anyone had known him, really known him, they would have said that he deserved worse.

Diflan and Kortek tossed Belomi's body onto the floor next to his sister's head. They took his decapitated head out of the jails and down the hall and tossed it to the pack of dogs outside the jail cell. The dogs, taught to rip apart bloody body parts, immediately fell upon Belomi's decapitated head like vultures, ripping it apart some more.

Soon Belomi's body followed. Then Oktevia's head and body followed. Then Mofi's. Then Nathan Miller's. Then all the others.

Back in the Luwoda land, in the place that at one time had been known as "Disneyworld," Monroe, Niylah and Clarke were getting ready for bed.

Niylah laid down onto her cot, facing Monroe and Clarke as Clarke came out of their shared bathroom, having brushed her teeth and everything and changed into the clothes that were offered to them by the Luwoda.

Niylah watched as Klark went to her own cot and sat down on it, occasionally scowling at Niylah or at Munroh.

Munroh sat down on her own cot and looked over at Klark. Niylah took note that Munroh didn't look worried or sad.

Munroh just asked in a soft tone, the question that she asked startling Niylah and Klark both, "Clarke? I have a question. Would you like me to hold you while you sleep?"

Clarke looked at Monroe, startled. "Huh?" She asked, snorting before she could help it. "You serious?" She asked the braided girl. "First you say you won't have sex with me, then you want to sleep with me? Make up your fucking mind."

Monroe shook her head. "No sex," She clarified. "Just holding you. If you want to. I can hold you while you sleep if you want. If it would make you feel safer."

Clarke eyed Monroe. She tried to tell herself that such a proposition was ridiculous. She didn't need to fucking be held. She had survived on her own for months after the mountain. And she had brought the mountain to its knees. She didn't need to be held by some girl that thought she knew her.

Clarke was thinking this, all the while trying to ignore how her heart skipped a beat at the suggestion of being held. After all the nightmares she had had, all the times she had gone to sleep, wondering if it would be the last time she'd ever close her eyes, because one new dangerous wrinkle in this world killed her while she slept, after all the exhaustion…

"Why?" Clarke asked Monroe suspiciously.

Monroe smiled. "Just to make you feel safe." Monroe answered. "To help you remember that you're not alone."

Clarke scoffed. "I'm not the one that needs to be reassured." Clarke told her. "Don't you forget, in the last timeline, you would never have survived without me. I'm the one that protects you."

Monroe nodded. "I know." She answered, again, looking infuriatingly unfazed by what Clarke had just said. "But this isn't just about feeling safe. It's letting you know that you have someone here who loves you."

Clarke shuddered before she could help it. Love. She had gone through so much that she should have been immune to such words. But love? Hearing that Monroe loved her…

It was a trick. It had to be a trick. No one meant it when they said that they loved her. Well, no one except her father and Wells.

But still….

Clarke remembered lonely nights. Nights when the words of the people that she thought cared about her had been thrown at her uncaringly. About how horrible she was. About how much of a murderer and monster she was. She had been left alone without a care by them.

The word was out of Clarke's mouth before she could stop it. "Alright." She said, making Monroe lift her head up more, her eyes widening with hope.

"Really?" Monroe asked, a smile starting to spread across her face.

"Don't push it." Clarke grumbled. "And yes, really. I'll sleep next to you. You try anything at all-"

"And I'll let you cut my throat." Monroe said, shrugging, as if suggesting something meant nothing to her. Clarke scoffed and slowly got up from her bed, grabbing her pillow and carrying it with her to Monroe's bed.

She put the pillow down next to Monroe's pillow and sat down on the bed next to Monroe and Monroe watched her, smiling.

Clarke's heart skipped a beat again as Monroe opened up her arms as an invitation. How long had it been before anyone had given her an offer like that? Of supposedly totally unconditional love?

Since her father and Wells had died in the last timeline? As far as she could remember, a really, really long time.

Clarke, before she could help herself, scooted closer to Monroe and placed herself in the braided girl's embrace. Monroe closed her arms around Clarke's body, kissing her forehead.

Clarke felt her heart race again, after the kiss on her forehead. What was the matter with her?

She had been betrayed so many times, had been stabbed in the back so many times, and yet here she was, happily snuggling into Monroe as if they were lovers who had been together for years.

She felt Monroe slowly lower them down to the bed, their heads hitting the pillows, Monroe hugging Clarke tightly as Niylah got up and went to the candles and blew them out, before walking back to her own bed and getting under the blankets and lying down under them.

Clarke huffed out against Monroe's chest, feeling Monroe stroke her right hand down Clarke's hair in reassurance and Clarke felt her skin tingle with warmth.

God damn her, but Clarke…Clarke could feel herself loving the warmth that Monroe was offering her. Monroe was like a blanket of warmth consuming her right now.

Clarke sighed, closing her eyes in content. Wow, she loved this.

From across the room Niylah smiled as she detected Klark calming down and slowly getting to sleep. She closed her eyes and got herself ready to sleep.

Niylah loved Klark and would wait. A few months was nothing. And while a few months might have been ridiculous, Niylah had made a promise. She had sworn not to touch Klark until she was of age. And Klark had suffered too many betrayals for it to be acceptable to ever have yet one more betrayal done to her again.

Even if it was a slight difference in age, Niylah would honor her promise. She would not come near Klark till Klark was of age, and until Klark was sure that she wanted Niylah.

For now, they were going to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So wow, yeah, I don't think I can be sorry for killing Bellamy and the others like that. They got what they deserved. End of story. Flips both middle fingers at Bellamy and any Bellamy fan around.


	18. A kindred spirit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and all chapters after Chapter 17 will most likely have spoilers for all of the Gargoyles series, except for the "Goliath Chronicles," which is really bad. So just the first few seasons of Gargoyles will have their spoilers in this.
> 
> And for anyone who has seen Gargoyles and knows about the "trio," Lexington, Broadway and Brooklyn's rivalry for the attentions of Angela, Demona's daughter, I'm changing that. I didn't like that any of the trio felt entitled to Angela. So she ends up with an OC gargoyle character, named Vincent.
> 
> As I've said, absolutely none of the Disney stuff belongs to me.

In the land of the Luwoda, the place at one time called "Disneyworld," specifically in the Haunted Mansion, morning came. That was basically the short version of it. And the boring part of it. The longer version and the more complicated version of it as well, was that as soon as the sun came leaking in through the square-shaped, glass window on the opposite wall of the bed where Clarke and Monroe were lying, wrapped around each other, Monroe raised her head and squinted at the satin drapes over the window as the sun met her eyes. Given that she was the one facing the window, she woke up first to see the sunlight.

She yawned, fighting the urge to snort. Earth. Go figure. Even waking up here was a painful endeavor. While Monroe would never regret everything she went through, because it left her here to right now, with the woman she loved, even though that woman had some serious issues going on right now, she could acknowledge that maybe being on the Ark had been better. Sure, every crime was punishable by death. But so what? That didn't seem very different to here. With the Grounders, it seemed that if someone who wasn't a Grounder even moved the wrong way, they'd have their hand potentially chopped off.

So you know what? Monroe wasn't sure that in another life, she wouldn't choose to be on the Ark again and stay there, that was, under the two conditions-that the system remained sustainable and that Monroe had a chance of meeting Clarke there and keeping her safe.

Monroe took a moment to take in her surroundings. Clarke was asleep next to her, snuggled up against her neck. Monroe smiled down at Clarke, pleased to see how peaceful Clarke looked right now. It seemed as if Clarke hadn't had any nightmares. At least, that was what Monroe hoped for the other woman.

She leaned down and gently kissed Clarke's forehead. She then tilted her head back and looked around the room. Niylah was awake as well. This was no shocker to Monroe. However, something caught Monroe's eye. That radio that Clarke had been hefting around. It was on one of the tables. Monroe narrowed her eyes. Clarke had been on the radio with someone, throughout all of yesterday. Who?

Clarke had called her "Callie." Monroe didn't remember any Callie. The only people of supposed authority that had come down had been the older Jaha, Markus Kane and Abby Griffin.

But then, Monroe recalled someone named Callie. Callie Cartwig. She remembered Clarke mentioning Callie a few times in the previous time. She mentioned Callie as being more of a motherly figure to her and Wells than Abby had been.

Monroe cocked her head. She wanted to believe that this "Callie" could be trusted. But she didn't know about that. She needed to make sure that this woman was loyal to Clarke. She knew how many betrayals Clarke had suffered. And she was going to make sure that Clarke didn't suffer any more, so long as Monroe had something to say about it.

Maneuvering herself very, very carefully, Monroe released Clarke and slipped over Clarke's body, getting up off the bed and stepping down onto the floor. She then went to the table and picked up the radio. She glanced over at Niylah who watched her with questions in her brown eyes.

Monroe nodded to Niylah, speaking very quietly, so that Clarke didn't wake up, "I'm just going to talk to who Clarke's been talking to. I want to make sure this person's on Clarke's side."

Niylah nodded, but Monroe wasn't sure if Niylah fully trusted her yet or not. However, Niylah didn't get up to stop the other young woman.

Monroe stepped outside of the room, closing the door behind her and held the radio tightly to her as she went to the hallway. She saw a few guards down the hall eyeing her and she said quietly, fighting the temptation to sneer at them in Trigedasleng-and she spoke to them at the moment in English, "Everything's fine. Just need to walk around, is all."

The guards still looked suspicious, but they thankfully made no move to stop her. She raised the radio to her face and she started speaking, "Hello? Anyone there?"

When she heard no response, she decided to check if it was on. She turned the dial and she heard a slight staticky noise from the radio, indicating that it had just been switched on. She then tried again, "Hello?"

There was still some static, then a voice answered over the radio, "Hello? Clarke? Wells?"

Monroe's eyebrows raised, hearing the female voice on the other end. "Hey," She began, "This isn't Clarke or Wells. Sorry. This is Zoe Monroe. One of the 100 prisoners sent down. I'm with Clarke and Wells and a few others on the ground. In Disneyworld, Florida. Who's this?"

There was silence and Monroe half worried that maybe this person, Callie or someone else, wouldn't trust any prisoner who weren't Clarke or Wells. However, thankfully an answer came eventually.

"Hello," The woman on the other end answered, "This is Chancellor Callie Cartwig. Pleased to meet you, Zoe Monroe. I think. Are Clarke and Wells alright? Are they safe?"

Monroe smiled at the question. "They're fine, Chancellor Cartwig." She assured Callie. "Both of them are good. They're asleep right now. We found a place full of Grounders where they're allowing guests to stay for a while. Most Grounders seem to be of the disagreeable kind. These Grounders are not. Not so far, anyway."

There was hesitation, then Callie answered, "Good to know. Thank you. We're heading there now. I want to make sure that both Clarke and Wells are safe."

Monroe narrowed her eyes. "Wait, you guys are coming here, now?" Monroe couldn't help the apprehension in her voice as she sent an uneasy glance down the hall at the guards. Thankfully they hadn't seemed to hear their conversation. What would people as easily freaked out as the cowardly Grounders think when they say a giant ship that followed after a group of people that the Grounders could label as "scouts?" The answer, unfortunately, was an obvious one. Invasion. The Grounders, upon seeing the rest of the Ark ship and the Ark people, would think "invasion."

"Not long from now." Callie assured Monroe. "Only in a few hours, we should get there."

"That's not a good thing," Monroe said, "No disrespect meant, Chancellor. But that won't be good. The people on the ground here?" Monroe glanced down the hall again, taking a few steps back, not wanting to risk the Grounder guards hearing, "They're not exactly what you'd call 'brave.' They're cowards. As soon as they see a big ship like the Ark? They'll assume that we're trying to invade them. They're being kind to us for now. But that could change easily as soon as they see the Ark when it comes by. And please, remember that Clarke and Wells are both in this Grounder tribe's "care.""

Monroe hoped she had conveyed enough of a sense of foreboding to Callie for the new chancellor to reconsider coming down in a rush.

There was more silence, then Callie answered, "If what you're saying is true, they'll hurt Clarke and Wells because they think they're under attack?"

"That's right," Monroe answered, "Don't get me wrong, so far I hate Grounders in general. But if we can avoid any confrontation we don't need, then I think that would end well for all of us. I'm sorry, I'm sure you didn't ask for a criminal who has no political history at all, but may I give you some advice?"

Callie answered, "Yes?"

Monroe continued at Callie's prompt, "Hold back. Don't bring the Ark down here and spook the fragile little flowers that are the Grounders. Wait till Clarke, Wells and the rest of us leave on ships to head for South America. Then you can follow us there."

There was hesitation. Then Callie answered, "Are you sure that this is the best course of action, Zoe?"

Monroe answered, "I prefer 'Monroe.' If that's okay with you, Chancellor," Though she strongly preferred what she was called, she knew she was on eggshells here with people in power, like always, so she had to be careful.

"Alright," Callie answered, "You're sure that's the best course of action, Monroe?"

Monroe sighed, "Based on what I've seen so far," And based on what she knew about how utterly easily freaked out the supposedly "strong Grounders" were, "Yes. I think so."

Because seriously, Grounders were probably the whiniest people Monroe had ever met. Well, apart from the 100 and that piece of shit that called himself a "leader," even though he was just a child molesting sack of fecal matter, Bellamy. But apart from them, Grounders were some of the whiniest people Monroe had ever met.

How exactly had they survived as long as they had anyway?

Someone asked a question, the Grounders freaked out. Someone went across a river, the Grounders freaked out. Someone walked into the wrong territory, the Grounders freaked out. Someone offered to teach the Grounders how to shoot, the Grounders freaked out.

Seriously, the Grounders acted like they were so tough and in control. But they were weak. Timid, terrified little rodents.

And they were the descendants of the survivors of the bombs and radiation? Boy, that was sad and pitiful.

Monroe heard Callie's answer, catching the braided girl's attention. "Alright," Callie answered, "Does Clarke trust you? Does Wells?"

Monroe answered, positive about this answer, as she was about everything else, "Yes. As much as I think Clarke is able to trust someone right now, I think she does. And Wells definitely does."

Clarke's trust was something they could work on. But Monroe knew that Clarke trusted her to an extent. Not much. But to an extent. Not as much as Monroe would like, but it was a start. Wells, however, given that he hadn't drastically changed in any way, seemed to trust her almost fully. So Monroe suspected that she had made the correct estimation.

"Alright, then," Callie answered, "Then I trust you. But I need absolute proof that Clarke and Wells are trusting you. Tell me something about Clarke and Wells that only a friend would know."

Monroe's eyes widened, startled by this demanding of proof. But she was also relieved. It seemed to be further evidence that this woman had Clarke and Wells's best interest in mind.

And thankfully, Monroe had the ammo that Callie was looking for.

"That one's easy," Monroe said, smirking, remembering something Clarke had told her one time, before Clarke, the Commander and the Commander's army had first tried to storm Mount Weather-before the weak bitch Commander's betrayal, "One time, when Clarke and Wells were younger, when Wells was thirteen and Clarke was twelve, they snuck into a pantry where there were extra rations and they at all of the dessert rations. Clarke's parents found out and were furious, but they covered it up for Clarke and Wells so that neither of the kids would end up in a skybox. So all three you, Abby and Jake Griffin lied for Clarke and Wells. To Thelonius Jaha's face. Wells's favorite of the desserts was a type of artificial fig pudding. Clarke's favorite of the desserts was some artificial pineapple and caramel thing."

There was no answer for a while, but Monroe was positive that she heard an almost muffled, "holy shit" on the other end and Monroe grinned.

Callie answered, "Well, then. I guess I have my answer, don't I? And technically, the fig pudding also had some raisins and almonds in it. But yes, I guess you pass. Right then. I suppose even though I've never met you or heard of you, I'll listen to you. For now. But I want to hear from Clarke and Wells soon."

Monroe answered, "You won't have to worry about that right now. They're sleeping. But they'll be up soon." She hesitated and said, "Now what about you?"

There was more silence and Callie then asked, "What about me?"

Monroe sighed. There was no easy way for her to ask this, was there?

"Are you only on Clarke and Wells's side?" Monroe asked, "Or are you going to turn on them first chance you get?"

This time, Monroe could almost feel the shock from Callie at the accusatory question. Even though she heard no answer, Monroe got the feeling that the new chancellor wanted to say, 'how dare you.' But nothing of the sort was said.

Then Callie answered.

"I'm sorry," Callie said, "What exactly do you mean?"

"I mean what I say." Monroe answered. "You grilled me. Now I'm grilling you, got it? I want to make sure that Clarke and Wells will be safe with you. Look, I'd like to believe that you're better than both Jaha and better than Kane. And even better than Dr. Griffin. But I don't have evidence of this yet.

"I want Clarke and Wells safe," Monroe took a breath as she continued, "I know this doesn't make any sense to you, since I've technically just met the two of them, but they mean a lot to me. Well, Clarke does. And because Wells means a lot to Clarke, he means a lot to me. But can you give me something-anything for me to go on to prove that you're not going to betray either of them?"

There was silence. Then Callie spoke again, "I see. Alright. How about this? I used to date Kane. When I saw how merciless he was to the prisoners, I broke up with him and have never been able to stomach him since. When he killed Thelonius Jaha, I decided to float him. Not because he committed murder, but because I realized he was too dangerous to be near Clarke and Wells. Because I didn't trust him to be near them. When I took control of the Ark, I intended and still intend to do nothing, except protect Clarke and Wells. The two children that I love like my own daughter and son. And when we reach Earth, I will do nothing but protect them. So if you don't believe me, when we get to Earth, you can just go ahead and shoot me if you want to."

Monroe was startled into silence at the challenging sneer in Callie's voice as the new chancellor relayed this defiant message. She stared at the radio, stunned.

Well, shit. Looked like Callie had grabbed a gauntlet and had thrown it down in challenge right before Monroe. Monroe might not know much about medieval things, but she knew 'throwing down a gauntlet' was a thing back in the medieval era. Or was a myth created for that time period. Honestly, she didn't know. But either way, it sounded accurate to what Callie had just done.

"Well," Monroe snorted, "Fuck." She heard a chuckle on the other end of the radio and Monroe added, "Shit. I can see why the people of the Ark voted for you. You're hardcore."

Callie snorted, "Thank you. But hardcore only gets us so far. Are you going to help me protect Clarke and Wells? Because I promise I'll do my part to protect them."

Monroe huffed out a breath. There was nothing, no physical proof that could be offered to her about Callie's sincerity, not while Callie was on the Ark. But everything in Callie's voice screamed of her conviction, the truth in her words. If Callie was lying, then she was a very, very good liar.

Monroe told her this quietly and Callie laughed.

"You know," Callie said, "If you're lying, then I'd say the same thing about you too."

Monroe snorted, smirking. Why did she get the feeling that an understanding had just been made?

"Alright, then," Monroe said, "Let's go with the possibility that we can trust each other for now. What now? Me, Clarke, Wells and the rest of us in our group, we all go to South America. And you follow us, right?"

"Yes," Callie answered, "I suppose I can go with that plan. We'll follow you when you say you get to South America. We'll bring weapons."

Monroe glanced down the hall and whispered to Callie, "Easy with the talk about weapons, chancellor. Remember, we're dealing with very jumpy people. Trust me, we even talk about weapons or more people coming down, they'll start screaming like entitled babies. How they survived as long as they have, I don't know."

She heard a sigh from Callie, "Right. Fine. We'll bring you the 'you-know-what' when we reach you in South America. Just hang tight till we get there. And I want to hear from Clarke and Wells today. Or we're coming down to where you are now."

Monroe nodded, even though she knew Callie couldn't see her. "Understood," She promised the chancellor. "Clarke and Wells will get up soon. Just give them a couple of hours. Then they can talk."

Callie answered, "Alright. Let me know when I can talk with them. Good speaking with you, Monroe."

"Good talking with you, chancellor." Monroe said, walking back to her, Clarke and Niylah's room, now left feeling unsure.

Callie Cartwig. She was someone who Monroe knew nothing about till now. At least with Thelonius Jaha, Kane, Abby-Monroe knew not to trust any of them. She at least knew what she was getting. But Callie? She was a wildcard. Monroe didn't know who Callie was or if Callie could be trusted. But she certainly was good at coming off as trustworthy. Monroe would give Callie that much.

As Monroe turned off the radio, giving a cautious glance to the guards, she went back to the room and entered, seeing Niylah almost fully dressed, all her furs draped over herself as she eyed Monroe as the youngest of the three in the room came in. "Hello, Munroh." Niylah acknowledged. "Are you alright?"

Monroe nodded. "I'm fine." She said, supposing that it was the truth-it was the closest to the truth anyway, since 'fine' was the best she could be as of right now. "Just talked with," Monroe glanced at Clarke, seeing that the other young woman was still asleep and said softly to Niylah, "Talking with people on the Ark. They were planning on coming down here. Not to South America, but to here in Florida. And I don't think your people would have reacted well to seeing a huge ship full of people coming down."

Niylah shook her head. "That was wise, Munroh," Niylah said, "You're right. They wouldn't have reacted well to seeing the Ark coming down in this specific land. It would have ended very badly. Did you tell them to meet us in this 'South America' instead?"

Monroe nodded. "That's right." She said, "I told them that your people would have become violent when seeing the Ark. So I told them to meet us in South America. And the new chancellor, Callie Cartwig, agreed."

Niylah smiled. "That's good." She said, "I can see why Klark trusts you."

Monroe shrugged, fighting a slightly self-conscious smile. "Well, I don't know how much she trusts me," Monroe confessed. "But hopefully she trusts me enough to forgive that I grabbed the radio."

She put the radio back down onto the small table next to her and Clarke's bed.

Niylah offered, "I'll back up your story, if you'd like."

Monroe nodded to her. "Thanks."

Next to them, in the bed, Clarke was facing the wall, her back to both Monroe and Niylah. Because her back was to them, they didn't see that her eyes were open. And that she had a small smile on her face. She had been listening in on them, since Monroe had come back into the room. She didn't know if Monroe was telling the truth. That she had told Callie to hold back from coming down this early and to meet with them in South America instead. Or if she did, if Monroe actually did it to help or had some other motive. But Monroe sounded convincing enough.

For now.

Clarke decided that she'd go along with this. For now. Until she got a sense that Monroe's motives weren't what the younger girl claimed them to be.

When everyone had gotten ready for the day ahead, all of the guests in their respective rooms came out and entered the hall.

Clarke, feigning tiredness as she clipped on the radio and tidied up her clothing as she walked into the hallway with Monroe and Niylah, checked down the hall at the others, securing her weapons close.

Pascal and Trina were holding hands as they exited their room. Jasper and Monty were talking and laughing as they came out of their guest room. Harper and Fox were doing the same. And to Clarke's surprise, when Wells and Finn came out of their room, Wells looked like he was explaining something to Finn and Finn seemed to be paying attention with rapt interest.

There was the sound of deep, loud footsteps coming closer to them and they all turned in direction of those intimidating sounding footsteps. Clarke frowned as she listened to the footsteps echoing throughout the hallway. That sounded like heels.

Clarke tried not to think too deeply about it. However, the last time she had seen any kind of "conventional" women's fashion on Earth, it had been in Mount Weather. Against Clarke's will, almost, she felt her right hand traveling to the trigger of her gun and wrapped her trigger finger around it. She felt a hand go to her left shoulder and she turned to see Monroe speaking softly. "Clarke," Monroe whispered, "Whatever it is you think is going on here, I'm sure it's fine. So please, can you please let go of the gun?"

Clarke's eyes narrowed and she looked down at the gun that Monroe was talking out. Her mouth dropped when she realized what she had almost done. She released the gun and allowed it to dangle from the strap around her right shoulder and neck. Her hands dropped to her side as she let loose a gasp, stunned by the violence she had almost caused. How could she have almost fired her gun without knowing it?

Unfortunately, Clarke knew the answer.

Trauma. That was the answer.

It might as well have been tattooed in giant, bright neon red letters across her face.

"TRAUMATIZED."

Clarke fought down the bile in her throat at the realization.

Clarke felt a word spring from her lips before she could stop it. "Sorry." She whispered to Monroe, not sure which she believed more-that she had apologized after giving up on everybody and rightfully so, or because she had lost control like that just now and had almost shot someone without being attacked first or without getting rid of an obstacle.

Monroe shook her head. "It's alright." She promised. "We're all alright. Just want to make sure you're alright too."

"Yeah, sure," Clarke lied, feeling more and more tense as she kept hearing those heels coming closer and closer. "I'm fine."

Clarke ignored the stare that she was getting from Monroe that just screamed, 'why do I not believe you?'

Then a figure entered the hallway and everyone, including Clarke and Monroe, looked at her.

To their shock, an extremely striking, albeit, intimidating woman, just entered the hall.

She was tall, statuesque, white, with long, bright and luscious orange hair and a strange dark blue tattoo over her right eye. The woman was wearing a tight form-fitting leotard, black on the legs and the upper torso area, bright red. Her shoulders were clasped in dark gold colored metal pads, connected, with a pale blue-green crescent shape, with the curve aimed down toward the woman's cleavage. She had red arm guards from the top of her hands, to her elbows.

"Whoa, hello." Pascal almost whispered, earning a glare from Trina.

All three Jasper, Finn and Monty gawked. As did Harper, Fox and Clarke as well.

Monroe glanced at Clarke. She herself was a little startled by this new person's appearance. She had thought that this tribe had already offered the strangest that they could offer with "Demona," her and her lover and fellow queen, "Elisa's" immortality, as well as the whole "gargoyle" thing. But no, Monroe almost knew immediately, as soon as she saw this woman, she knew they were in the presence of something strange again. She didn't know what. But something obviously strange.

She did, however, wanted to know what Clarke's opinion of this new woman was.

Clarke tilted her head slightly, fascinated. While Monroe knew for a fact that Clarke was bisexual. Was attracted to both men and women, and knew that Clarke had been in relationships with both boys and with girls. Knew that Clarke had been in a relationship with both Lexa and Anya. And then there was the case of her sleeping with Niylah-albeit only for some sort of way of blanking out the horrors that she had been forced to commit. So being in a relationship with older women, was nothing to her.

Yet, Monroe didn't see any lust or desire in Clarke's eyes. Interest, yes. But desire? No, nothing like that.

Clarke looked like she was curious about this woman and what was more, like she wanted to know what this woman was like. But again, this didn't seem to be anything like any romantic interest.

It was odd. Monroe couldn't say she could mentally pin it down.

"Yes?" Clarke asked at last. "Hello? Ms.?"

The redhead turned to Clarke, slim, fiery eyebrows lifting.

"Hello," The woman said, voice sultry almost. "My name is Fox. I believe my wives, Elisa and Demona have told you already about me."

"Hello, queen Fox," Clarke nodded to the woman, "An honor to meet you, as well as an honor to meet your wives. Is there anything we can do for you?"

Monroe fought a grimace. How quickly Clarke recovered from her near "episode," was troubling. For lack of better terms.

Fox either didn't care if Clarke had problems or didn't notice or was pretending to either not care or not to notice when she spoke next, "I would like to take you to your breakfast. My wife, Elisa and I have something to tell you."

Monroe and the others agreed. Monroe understood why Demona hadn't been mentioned in that statement. Demona was a gargoyle. Gargoyles turned to stone during the day. At least, that had been what they had been told last night.

So Demona would be taking a "stone nap" right now. She wouldn't be awake until tonight.

Monroe supposed she understood it. But it sounded like a rotten deal if one was in a relationship with two humans, who often were known to sleep at night. Didn't sound like you'd get to have much of a relationship with someone when they slept during the night and you slept during the day.

Fox turned and went down the hall, Clarke, Monroe, Niylah, Wells and Finn and the others followed after her.

They went through the many different halls with the many guards watching over the safety of said halls. The ornate designs that had been deliberately put there by the owners of the theme park making it look all the more like the "Haunted Mansion" it was supposed to represent.

Red satin chairs, gold carpets with black swirls on them in the shapes of feathers, or zigzags, black and white framed photos in countless numbers along the walls, small lamps with lampshades that looked like they had been made specifically for a kind of disturbing mansion, with tassels and an eerie glowing orange tint. All of it looked very convincing.

Very obviously effort had been put into this ride and apparently, the Grounder tribe of this area had acknowledged that effort enough to not change much. At least, not in this part of the ride area.

They discovered that not much else had been changed in this ride, when they came to what was obviously supposed to be the Haunted Mansion's dining room. A long, rectangular, wooden table with many, many plates full of food, and chairs surrounding that table greeted them. The room they had entered was quite large. The dining table barely took up any of the room. When this place had been called the Haunted Mansion, they had really meant the "Mansion" part, as well as the Haunted part. This room with the dining table barely taking up any room obviously signified belonging to some fictional character made up for this specific ride who was fantastically wealthy and therefore, could afford such a room and many other big, wide rooms.

Elisa sat at the head of the table and Fox went over and sat down in the vacant seat next to her. There were several guards flanking the table, all armed, of course. There were only four other individuals at the table. All of them human, from what the guests of this place could tell. There were several other vacant seats present, and Elisa nodded to those chairs, "You can sit down if you want."

Hesitant only for a few seconds, first Clarke, then Wells and Pascal, then Niylah and Monroe, then everyone else, sat down onto their chairs. Clarke sat closest to Fox and Elisa. When the guards tensed at that, Fox held up a hand, staying them from interfering. Niylah sat right next to Clarke, putting a barrier between Fox and Clarke. And Monroe sat down on Clarke's other side. Clarke tried not to laugh when she noticed this. She half wondered if they were protecting her from the queens and the queens' guards, or them from her. Or both, perhaps.

Wells sat across from Clarke. Finn sat down next to Wells. Jasper and Monty sat down next to each other, next to Finn. Harper and Fox sat down next to Monroe. And Pascal and Trina sat across from each other.

Fox turned to them and said softly, "Elisa has just told me that we will be providing ships to you and give all of you whatever you need if you decide to leave and head for South America."

Clarke tilted her head at that. "If you decide to leave." That was a very strange thing to say. Thankfully, Clarke wasn't the only one to think this, as Pascal asked, curious, "'if we decide to stay?' What do yah mean? We decided to head off to South America, remember? Your majesty?"

The last thing Pascal said was stated in a cough, obviously temporarily forgetting for a moment to give Fox her respectable title.

"Oh, I remember." Fox assured Pascal, her visage never changing, "But we also made preparations if you and your people would like to stay."

There was a silence in the room, then Clarke, to the surprise of everyone in Clarke and Wells's group, surprise and surprise that soon turned to unease, burst out laughing. Her laughter was raucous. Thundering. It reached the glass skyline above the table. The guards and the other guests at the table cocked their heads at her.

Clarke then slowly turned her head to Fox and Elisa, grinning a rather troubling grin. "Stay? You want us to stay, huh?" She asked. "And what reason do you want us to stay for? Did someone tell you to? Like the Commander?"

Fox and Elisa both looked slightly startled at this proclamation. Elisa shook her head. "No." She answered, "No one told us to do that. Much less the Commander herself. I'm not sure why you think the Commander had anything to do with our decision. We just decided it would be the right thing to do."

"No offense, your majesty," Clarke said, leaning back in her chair and eyeing the dark-haired queen, "But almost no one does anything because it's 'the right thing to do.' And I'm sorry, but my people and I can't afford to be that trusting. We're an endangered people, you know."

There was the sound of a door creaking open, then the sound of that very door closing, and someone came in, walking on high heels clapping against the stone floor as a low and deep, controlled voice entered the room, "My, my, young lady," The voice said, catching everyone's attention, "You really are a suspicious one, aren't you? Not that I can blame you. There are really so many untrustworthy humans in the world. There really are."

Clarke and the others raised their heads to see a tall, intimidating looking woman, with long, dark red hair tied back and combed professionally, long, dark red in a long ponytail. Her intense, hard green eyes surveyed her guests as she stepped closer into the room, her body clasped in a dark red garments, silk looking from what Clarke could tell. As the woman approached on dark red high heels, she looked to Clarke in particular and Monroe shifted closer to Clarke protectively. Wells tensed across from Clarke, looking ready to leap across the table to protect Clarke from this woman.

The woman looked down at Clarke and started talking again, voice firm, so firm that Clarke's eyes widened in recognition of the voice, but said nothing as she listened to the older woman. The new redhead said, "I understand why no one would trust anyone they just met. Especially if that someone was a human."

Two things occurred in that moment. At the exact same time, though neither of the recipients of these occurrences realized that the other was experiencing it.

Clarke listened to this woman's voice, looked at her face, at the intensity and conviction of her eyes and the way she posed herself. Not to mention the red hair and the body structure. Clarke felt an inkling in the back of her mind and as soon as this woman went off about "humans," she knew she was right. Magic existed, right? So then, what was keeping that gargoyle lady, "Demona," who according to Niylah, could use magic, from turning into a human during the day?

It hit Clarke then as she looked at this woman's face, really looked at it. This woman was Demona. Of that, Clarke was sure.

However, Clarke was fine with pretending she didn't know. These people wanted to believe that they had an advantage? Let them. She wasn't going to risk their chances of getting away.

At the exact same time, Demona experienced something in that moment that she never thought she'd experience.

She stared into this woman's eyes and had to restrain herself from gasping. Looking at this young woman's eyes, Demona saw someone she knew looking back at her, even though she knew she had never met this woman before in her life. She saw a kindred spirit. Someone who had had her trust broken. Over and over and over again. She saw someone who was so sick of betrayal, that she would hurt anyone who even tried to gain her trust again. Because why not? Because why should she not hurt everyone that had betrayed her and those who had not, when so little of her trust was taken seriously? When it was so mishandled?

This young woman-this girl, really, was just like her.

Human, yes. But like her.

Demona could see the vulnerability, though she was sure that Clarke was trying to hide it. She could see the pain. The anger. The hopelessness. The hatred. The fear. The exhaustion. Oh, goodness. The exhaustion. Just so tired of all the deception and betrayal.

Wondering if there was anyone who was to be trusted in this world.

And she had most likely already decided that very few people could be trusted. And it was unlikely that she had extended her trust that much.

Demona then felt a strange surge in her chest. Warmth. A specific type of warmth. One she had first felt long, long ago when she had met her biological daughter, Angela, face to face in Paris. One that she felt whenever she looked at Angela's hatchlings-Angela and her mate, Vincent's children. One that she felt whenever she looked upon Angela's descendants-one of her descendants.

Affection. Maternal affection.

Demona blinked, barely able to contain her shock. Maternal affection…no…how? She had just met this girl. And this girl was a human, for goodness sake.

But her common sense, or perhaps the opposite of her common sense, demanded she think about it another way. Elisa and Fox were both human. Well, Elisa was human. Fox was half human. Half…something else. And yet, Demona was in love with them. Deeply and utterly. Goliath and that traitorous slime, Thailog were far behind her.

And it so by that fact, was it too strange to assume that she could also theoretically, come to love someone who was human, but worthy enough to be her child? Demona tried to ignore the way her heart went up in her throat as she absorbed this girl's vulnerability and pain. She couldn't possibly offer to take this girl in as her daughter, could she? The girl was almost an adult. Well, that wasn't too odd. In this new world full of different tribes, many adults often almost adults-even those as close to the age of twenty-three could be taken in by an adopted parent, if that person became enough like a son or daughter of the parent. But that wasn't the only issue.

This girl was a part of an entirely different group of people. For all Demona knew, this girl had parents. However, if she did, it was very unlikely that these parents treated this girl well or cared about her enough to learn about all this girl had gone through. Then there was the fact that this girl had a mission in mind. It was obvious in everything this girl did. Which meant that she wouldn't abandon that mission anytime soon. Demona then decided that that was even further reason to see if they could get this new people to stay.

"And you'd know, how?" Clarke asked, startling Demona.

Demona tilted her head. She at first, wasn't sure what this girl was talking about. Then she remembered what she had just said about human beings and she chuckled, smiling, "Quite simple. I've had a few experiences like that, myself."

That was one way of her putting it. But she knew now that the story was a little more complicated than that. But she certainly had believed it to be that way at the time.

She could acknowledge now, how much of a fool she had been. But there was no point in pondering over that.

The blonde-haired teenager gave a cold smile to Demona. "Sure you have. Sure." Demona had heard enough sarcasm in her very, very long life to be able to recognize it. She also realized that the girl was probably right to a certain extent.

After all, for all the betrayals that Demona had experienced, she knew now that she had committed her own various betrayals.

Demona suspected that whatever betrayal this girl had committed, if any, absolutely dwarfed all the constant betrayals she had experienced.

Demona then nodded to the girl, "May I ask your name, girl?"

If she was going to take this girl in, she knew she'd need to know the designated child's name, didn't she?

Though Clarke had a feeling that they should know all their names by now, since the Grounders weren't known for respecting privacy, she answered without hesitation. "Clarke." She answered, "Clarke Griffin." Though these people had done nothing to her yet, some horrible, diseased part of her hoped that the Commander discovered that this tribe had had access to a potentially enemy people and had let that enemy people go. She hoped it ended in war between tribes. How fucking delicious would that be? Clarke, as soon as she realized the thought she had just processed, squished it under her common sense. Right now was not the time to think about 'what if.' Right now was the time to think about getting all of her people to South America. She could fantasize about the tribes killing each other violently later.

"Clarke Griffin," Demona repeated the name, nodding to her. She mentally rolled the name around. Clarke. Clarke. The name of her second child, her human child was Clarke. She would remember that.

Feigning interest, if only to be convincing in this girl's eyes, Demona turned to the other occupants at the table who had arrived with Clarke. "And the rest of your companions?" She asked, not really caring.

The girl next to Clarke to Clarke's right, waved her hand. "Name's Monroe." She answered. "Prefer using my last name."

Demona nodded, turning to the others. The other woman next to Clarke answered, "Niylah kom Trikru."

The others introduced themselves as Wells, Finn, Harper, Fox, Jasper, Monty, Pascal and Trina.

It was odd for Demona to absorb. Because she realized something. All of these individuals, except for Niylah, appeared to be from this "other people." Niylah had outright said that she was of the Trikru tribe. Perhaps she was being paid as a guide to these newcomers?

"A pleasure to meet all of you," Demona said, saying what she needed to. "My name is Dominique Destine. I am one of the queen's secretaries and speak for them when they are too busy to do it themselves."

Clarke almost snorted. Almost. 'Dominique Destine?' Really? Demona couldn't come up with anything less obvious than that? Centuries old, and that was ALL she could come up with? What a joke. But Clarke nonetheless held her tongue. She needed to get these stupid people to believe that she was as dumb as they thought her to be. If they thought her fooled, well then, why should she stop their arrogant ignorance?

Anything that worked in her own favor, Clarke sure as fuck wasn't going to stop it.

"Uh-nice to meet you, Ms. Destine." Wells said, naturally as polite as always.

"Dominique Destine" nodded to Wells. "Thank you," She said, "It's nice to meet you, as well. I imagine you have many questions. And as my queens suggested, you might want to think about staying here. You wouldn't have to go to new land to find a home. You could just stay here, if you like."

Clarke turned to look at her and her eyebrows narrowed. "I'm sorry," She said, "But why exactly do you want us to stay?"

Dominique turned her head, cocking it at Clarke. "Why would we not want you to?" She asked. "There is such a thing as kindness, you know. And has it occurred to you that we benefit from this? And that we would have another army with your people here?"

Clarke frowned. That kind of made sense. Having as many people that were on the Ark, would be a good army. Granted, the majority of the Ark was made up of farmers, water recyclers, doctors and so on. But all their resources were useful. So she supposed she understood. "I get that," She answered, "But I think it's really best if we leave for South America. I'm sorry, but I've taken history classes. I know that's an odd thing to say. But I've studied these kinds of situations before. Two different cultures meeting? They rarely end well." She added to placate both the two queens and the woman pretending not to be the third queen, "Not that I'm saying your people would do anything harmful on purpose. It's just that misunderstandings tend to happen with different cultures meeting. So I think for the sake of both our peoples? We should leave and head for South America as soon as we can. But thank you for the offer, anyway, Ms. Destine."

Demona raised her eyebrows. Clarke was naïve if she thought that Demona bought that. There was obviously more going on here than just that.

Demona didn't know this girl. But she knew her well enough to know that this girl had gone through more than she was letting on. There was a reason why she didn't trust and Demona knew it.

"Alright." Demona said, smiling, "I'm sure we can accommodate you in the meantime," She would in the meantime, work to convince Clarke that she would be safe here during that period. "I understand. And thank you for being as considerate as that. However, I assure you that our people can be trusted." She then met Clarke's eyes, "But then, I have the feeling you've heard that before and you haven't had any proof of the sincerity of those promises, have you?"

Clarke stiffened as soon as Demona had said that, confirming Demona's suspicions. Clarke had a history with being backstabbed. She wouldn't admit to it. But obviously, she had been betrayed multiple times.

Demona didn't know the context, but Clarke had clearly experienced more betrayals than was healthy for anyone.

And she had suffered for it and had hardened herself severely as a result.

"What do you mean?" Clarke asked, voice layered in warning and Demona watched as both Monroe and Niylah got closer to Clarke and each of them laid a hand on Clarke's arms.

Demona fought a smirk. It was very apparent that Clarke had shown violent behavior as a result of her trauma. Because of that, Monroe and Niylah had had to be careful with her. From the looks of it.

So then Demona knew she had to be careful with her too.

"What I mean is," Demona said, looking down at Clarke challengingly, "You seem like you have been through a lot. It looks like you have good reasons not to be trusting. I won't assume to know what it is you went through. But I think it's safe to say that you've been through a lot. My apologies for your hardships. However, we'll provide you with proof of how safe it is here. If you'd like."

Clarke glowered. Anger rushed to the front of her mind. Endless smiling faces. Endless promises of safety flashed before her. All lies. Every last one of them lies. Endless backstabbing actions and empty promises. Dante Wallace's smiling, lying face. Abby Griffin's lying face. The Commander, Lexa's lying face. Kane's lying face. Anya's lying face. Bellamy's lying face. Murphy's lying face. Thelonius Jaha's lying face. Jasper's lying face. ALL of them. Lying!

Clarke tensed, and Monroe and Niylah both grabbed her tightly. "Clarke, please." Monroe pleaded.

Clarke wasn't listening. Her skin burned with her anger.

How the fuck dare this woman presume to know what she had gone through? How dare she feed her empty promises like everyone else had?

"Know me that well, huh?" Clarke asked, voice layered in frozen ice. "Then tell me, smartass, who was the first person that betrayed me?"

To Clarke's chagrin, Demona, or as she foolishly believed she was coming off as, "Dominique," just smiled sadly.

"I'm not psychic, Ms. Griffin," Demona assured her. "I don't know the specifics. But I know you've been through a lot. You've been through enough, I'd argue."

Demona then said gently, "I'm not presuming to know you. I'm just stating an observation. That's all. But if you and your people want to leave? We will get the ships ready as soon as possible."

Clarke nodded and said nothing after that. But Demona could practically hear the girl's mental statement even though the girl didn't say a word. What the girl most likely thought to herself most likely was, 'Yeah, I've heard that one before, haven't I?'

"Thank you." Clarke said, but her voice sounded strained.

Demona nodded to her. "You are very welcome." She answered, "Now then, if you'll all excuse me," She bowed to both queen Fox and queen Elisa, a theoretical action that would further convince any onlookers that Dominique and Demona were not in fact the same person-an action that Clarke mentally applauded, even though she was fooled by nothing else, "I will be off now. And leave all of you to your breakfast."

Demona sent one last look to Clarke who eyed her again, and Demona hoped she had relayed a meaningful message as she exited the room. She caught her wives' eyes as she left and she knew that both Fox and Elisa knew that there was something wrong. They knew that Demona had just experienced something strange, though they couldn't tell what that particular something was.

Demona exited the room and went to the back hallway, taking a moment to take a breath. This…this was a very unexpected development. She had never thought she'd meet someone like that, so vulnerable, so desperate for mental peace, so desperate-so like her.

She sighed. She had learned a long time ago that just because she had gone through something, something traumatic and harmful, didn't mean that any of those who were in her care needed to go through the same thing. It had taken her a long time to realize that, but she had eventually.

The rest of the world of the tribes didn't understand this important fact. All the other tribes taught their children to go through the exact thing they went through. To harden them. To make them "strong." It was one of the reasons why tribes like the Floukru, the Luwoda and the Yujleda were considered oddities. They were almost kindly to those who relied upon the strong in their tribes.

And this Clarke? She had already been through enough. Demona would not allow her to go through anymore.

Not as long as she could help it.

In the main room where "Dominique Destine" had left them, the others turned back to the table.

"Clarke," Wells said, looking to Clarke worried, "Are you okay?"

Clarke scoffed, snickering. "Take a wild guess, Wells. No. I'm not. But since when has that made a difference to anyone outside of you?" She shook her head and grumbled, "Sorry. I'm sorry, Wells. I'm just not in a good mindset right now."

Wells nodded. "Okay." He said, voice caring and gentle. "It's alright."

Clarke fought a laugh. No, it wasn't alright. Not in any sense of the word. But Wells really didn't fully understand the gravity of the situation. Sure, Monroe had told him everything. But being told something and experiencing it were very different, weren't they?

"Whatever," Clarke grumbled, turning her attention to her respective plate full of food, "I'm hungry."

She grabbed up a fork and knife, cutting at the meat in front of her on her plate.

Around her, the tense other group members in Clarke's number eventually relaxed. The danger that had been so alive during Clarke and Dominique Destine's encounter was now gone. For the present moment. They went to working on their own food, though Wells and Finn both still looked at Clarke, troubled. Monroe and Niylah stayed almost uncomfortably close to her in case they needed to restrain her.

As Pascal and Trina ate, Pascal eyed Clarke. Alright. It was official. He needed to know what the hell was going on here. Clarke had serious issues. That was obvious. And that other woman, Ms. Destine, she had talked about betrayal? What kind of betrayal? The way Clarke had reacted seemed to indicate that Destine's assessment was correct. That Clarke had been betrayed. More than once. Enough times that it had made Clarke completely distrustive of everyone around her. Which would explain a lot.

But what kind of betrayals had there been? How many? And why?

As Pascal stuffed his face full of herb roasted chicken, not believing how good the food was, he knew that everything he had been told about when he was a kid, that he was too curious for his own good, was true. If there was a hole in the ground where he heard some growling in it, he'd most likely stick his hand into it, just to see what it was that was growling in there. If there was a dark closet where he heard a spooky voice, he'd probably go into the creepy closet, wanting to see who or what was whispering to him.

And here he was, facing off with the possibility of trying to get answers from someone who was gruffer and more fierce than even a snarling timber wolf.

But still, Pascal knew he needed to know. Not just because he wanted to feel safe in Clarke's hands-because he knew he was. Something about her told him that as long as he didn't try to jeopardize the possibility of their people coming down and getting to South America safely, he was in no danger with her. But that wasn't the reason why. No, he wanted to know because he couldn't understand how someone as protective of her people as Clarke was, could at the same time be so distrustful and angry.

How could someone who had been the daughter of the top engineer and the top medic and the best friend of Wells Jaha, possibly be so bitter and ornery? It felt like a contradiction that just didn't fit.

What exactly had happened here that he wasn't getting? That all of them, except seemingly Clarke, Monroe, Niylah, Wells and possibly Dominique Destine, not getting?

Pascal knew that he was tempting fate by deciding this. But he decided he'd find out. He'd ask. He would find out. If it meant that it stopped driving him crazy with these questioning thoughts.

At the other end of the table, queen Elisa and queen Fox ate, sending glances to each other. That was an interesting thing they had just witnessed.

What kind of person could get that kind of reaction from their wife and fellow queen. Demona, or as she called herself in her human form, Dominique Destine, was not easily spooked. But the way that they had seen their wife's physical movements, they knew that she had been spooked. Or something like that.

Elisa looked at Clarke was ripping the grilled cheese sandwich apart in her grasp. This girl had gotten that reaction from Demona. Why? Elisa thought about what her wife had said to Clarke. About being betrayed. She smiled sadly. Ah. Maybe that was why. Elisa might not know Clarke's life story, but perhaps Demona could take a guess.

Elisa glanced to Fox who rested her left elbow against the wooden table, balancing her head on her left fist. There were many of Fox's descendants here. Fox's son, Alexander, had died ages ago. It had hurt Fox. As much as Angela's death had hurt Demona. But they had let Alexander and Angela's souls move on to the next world. Whatever that was. And Alexander Xanatos's own descendants as well as Angela's were here in this tribe. That was enough for all three Fox, Elisa and Demona.

However, Fox tilted her head to Clarke and had a suspicion she knew what it was that Demona had seen. There was something angry but also pained and vulnerable. Perhaps Demona had seen what Fox suspected she was seeing now. A wounded and desperate child in an almost full-grown woman's body.

Fox smiled, turning to Elisa and whispered to her wife, "I think Demona and I have something to tell you when we get the chance."

Elisa tilted her right eyebrow up. But she trusted both Fox and Demona enough to know when to take their words seriously. She would talk with them later.

Back on the Ark, Callie Cartwig had done as this "Zoe Monroe" had asked. She had ordered the pilots to not drive the Ark to Florida. They would wait. For now. Callie frowned. She didn't know what this Monroe had to do with anything. She wanted to trust Monroe. The story that Monroe had given her, about Clarke and Wells breaking into the pantry and stealing some dessert rations was convincing. But Callie didn't know for sure. She hoped that Monroe could be trusted.

And Monroe claimed that she would hear from Clarke and Wells soon enough. She wanted to believe that. But she didn't know yet, did she?

Either way, there was nothing she could do about that, just yet, was there?

So then, what could she do? What difference could she make? She knew the answer already. She had no way of proving that she was trustworthy to Monroe and she had no way of finding if Monroe was trustworthy or not. But Callie could put safeguards in with her former friend, Abby.

Abby was biologically Clarke's mother. But so what? Thelonius Jaha was Wells's biological father, and he had been garbage. He had hurt Wells. And Clarke. So he had had no worth and she felt nothing over killing him.

And so, just because Abby Griffin was Clarke's biological mother, meant nothing. Abby had betrayed Clarke. Had gotten the girl's father executed. Had let Wells take the blame. And because she had told Thelonius Jaha about what Clarke had known, she had gotten Clarke sent down to the ground, where she could have been killed by a toxic radiation covered ground, killed by "Grounders," or assaulted by one of the other criminals Clarke and Wells had been sent down with. And on top of everything else, Abby had let Wells get sent down too.

So no, Abby had no place in Clarke's life. That, Callie could decide on her own. And the other woman had no place in Wells's life, for that matter.

Callie wasn't going to kill Abby. Abby hadn't done enough to earn murder. Not yet, anyway.

But she would put some precautions in place when it came to Abby. She needed to have Abby at a disadvantage. There was room to argue that Callie already had a big advantage over Abby. After all, Callie was the new chancellor and Abby was still just the top medic. Not that much weight in the council. However, there was something that Callie could do and she knew that.

She prepared herself. She knew that there were cameras in the medic bay area. She would take advantage.

She would keep Clarke and Wells safe. No matter.

Back on the ground, on the edge of what had at one time been Disneyworld, now fully fed, Clarke, Monroe, Niylah, Wells and the others were being bugged endlessly by Jasper, Harper and Fox all were asking desperately to go into one of the ride areas. Besides the Haunted Mansion.

Clarke had almost thrown her hands up as she asked for permission from the currently present queens, queen Elisa and queen Fox if they could explore the kingdom and they had all been granted permission, so long as none of them wandered outside of the premises.

Clarke and the others agreed and they began to walk off, Clarke giving a few dark warnings to Jasper and the others that if they messed with anything, she'd kick their asses and everyone believed her.

As they wandered off, a few guards going with them as they went past some buildings with the stone figures of the sleeping gargoyles along the roofs, queen Elisa and queen Fox went back to the Haunted Mansion. Elisa turned to Fox. "We need to talk with Demona." She said.

Fox nodded. She had a feeling. "Yes," She agreed, "We do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So shit's going to collide with the fan hard soon enough. Just not yet.


	19. General Griffin and Sergeant Williams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for trauma, violence, betrayal, domestic violence mentions of historical pedophilia, racism and abuse, mentions of someone trying to coerce someone else into sex-and murder of one's spouse, and for mentions of Disney movie racism-specifically in Peter Pan-towards Native Americans.

Within the grounds of what used to be Disneyworld, the group of eleven walked through the no longer bright and busy amusement park, eyeing the many stone figures of the apparently "sleeping" creatures that were gargoyles. They had been given warnings from the human guards that gargoyles could be damaged in their sleep, so none of the group were to touch any of the stone figures-for fear that some of their gargoyle comrades would be harmed as they slept.

Clarke had given Jasper, Monty, Finn, Harper, Fox, Pascal and Trina a very deadly look when she had told them outright not to touch any of the gargoyles in stone, and the look alone cowed the rest of the group into not going near those stone figures.

When the group reached one ride that Jasper and Fox both had been mumbling about happily, the Peter Pan one, they pleaded to go inside. Clarke had rolled her eyes, turned to the guards and asked them if they could go in. The guards said it was alright, but just that they were not to damage anything inside.

Clarke gave the rest of the group permission and Jasper, Monty, Finn, Harper and Fox almost immediately ran inside.

Clarke snorted, about to go after them when Pascal spoke up, "Wait a sec," He said, urging for Trina to follow the others. As she did and went inside, leaving her boyfriend for now, Pascal turned to Clarke who now had his attention. Pascal glared. "Alright," He said, trying to sound authoritative, "What's going on? Explain. Why are you so distrustful? Why does it seem like you're hiding something from the rest of us?"

Clarke eyed him and next to her, Wells, Monroe and Niylah all tensed.

"What makes you think I'm hiding anything?" Clarke asked, her tone clearly mocking as she smirked at him.

Pascal shook his head. "You can't fool me." He said, "There's something wrong here. I thought at first that the way you act is because of some severe council's children training," He then nodded to Wells, "But that doesn't work. Not if you look at Jaha, here. He's not like you. I'm sorry, Griffin, but he's not scary. And he's…well, nice."

Clarke snorted, "What, you wanted me to be your cuddly best friend? Is that what'll make you happy?"

Pascal shook his head. "No, no, sorry," He said quickly, "That's not what I mean. I'm not asking you to be nice and polite or anything. It's just that I know that some rigorous council training isn't what got you this way. It's something else. I want to know what it is." Pascal stared at Clarke and Clarke stared right back at him coldly.

Pascal then sighed and asked, "Okay, then, Griffin, I'm gonna ask you something. Am I wrong in thinking that you'd kill all seven me, Trina, Finn, Harper, Fox, Monty and Jasper, if we do anything to jeopardize the Ark coming down and all our people coming down safely?"

Clarke's eyebrows raised and then she shook her head. "No." She answered. "Seven lives do not outweigh all the lives on the Ark. So no. You are not wrong."

Pascal almost shivered at Clarke's confirmation. So he had been right. Clarke was all about the mission. She was determined to bring everyone down safely. No matter what.

This was slightly chilling. But it was also reassuring. Clarke was on their peoples' side. And she very likely was their best hope of surviving on the ground.

"That's what I thought," Pascal said, nodding. "Then tell me what's going on." He pushed. "You're on the side of our people. Of the Ark. I want them to come down safely too. So let me help. Please, let me help."

At Pascal's pleading words, Clarke frowned, looking troubled. Wells and Monroe looked at each other, then at Clarke. Niylah eyed Clarke, but her eyes shifted back to Pascal, never leaving him until Clarke spoke.

"And I should trust you, why?" Clarke asked.

Pascal heaved out a breath. And there that particular issue was. Whatever it was. Clarke didn't trust people. Why, Pascal didn't know.

Pascal thought about promising her his loyalty, but he knew that that would do nothing. If Clarke was this distrustful, then things like a promise would mean nothing to her. She most likely had heard her fair share of promises. Most likely all of those very promises had been broken. Which was likely how Clarke had gotten this way.

So no. Promises to Clarke, Pascal was sure, were air. Were empty. Were as pointless as shreds of paper.

No. Clarke needed something more solid and reassuring than some empty promise.

Pascal said, glancing at the Luwoda human guards that were far away and turned back to Clarke, Wells, Monroe and Niylah. And he began to speak, deciding to give more, than just some promise. He began, "When I was younger, on the Ark, my parents…they fought a lot. We were working class and all that. And my mom, she knew how unfair the payments we got next to those of high class got. But she would have done anything for our people. Almost all of the Ark is made up of working class. Farmers, clothes makers, water recyclers, electricians and so on. And she wanted the best for them as much for her own family. But my dad?" Pascal grimaced, "My old man was a piece of work. He was resentful. He didn't just feel like his people had been fucked over. He felt like he personally had been fucked over. And so he took his anger out on anyone he could. He actually said that he was fine with the whole Ark burning if that meant that he was paid more." Pascal shook his head, disgusted.

Pascal nodded and continued, "My dad, Henry…he eventually smothered my mom, Cynthia to death. With a pillow. In their bed. That was the kind of weak, resentful man my old man was." He watched as Clarke, Wells and Monroe's eyes all widened. Niylah tilted her head, listening close now. Pascal continued, "So I ran away. I didn't care if I ended up dead in some alleyway. I didn't care if I got arrested, which I did, obviously. But I just wanted to get away from that bastard. I wanted to follow the dreams of my mother. Serve the people. But some part of me?" Pascal nodded, "You know, some part of me, just wanted to hurt my old man. So I stole resources and brought them to other lower class people. On one of these trips, this is when I met Trina. Eventually both of us were arrested. Three years after I ran away from home. And now we're here."

Pascal then looked at Clarke hard, "If you're not going to believe me when I say that I am loyal because I want to help our people, then believe me when I say I want to hurt that old man of mine back on the Ark. I don't want him to have a single bit of happiness after what he did, after what my mother and my life was with him."

Pascal had told Clarke the truth. All of it. The sting of his mother's murder at his father's hands still hurt. The worst of it had been because his father had killed his mother with a pillow, the death had looked natural or accidental. His father had never been punished for the murder.

Clarke stared at him for a few seconds, she then took a breath and said, "You know that if you do anything to endanger the rest of the Ark coming down, I'll kill you." Her eyes darkened even more and added, "I'll kill Trina first and make you watch. Then I'll kill you."

Pascal shivered at the promise. Shit. Whatever Clarke might have thought of promises, Pascal believed Clarke's promise when she said it. He was positive that she meant it when she said that she'd kill Trina in front of him if he endangered the Ark's people, and then would kill him.

He nodded. "Understood." He said quietly. "But you can trust me."

Clarke snorted quietly, "We'll see, won't we?" She then tilted her head slightly, making her neck crack. She then asked calmly, "What do you want to know?"

Pascal hesitated and looked at her again and said, "The truth. Please. What happened to you? Why don't you trust anyone? What the HELL happened to you?"

Clarke eyed Pascal again. Wells, Monroe and Niylah then looked at Clarke, questions in their eyes. Clarke answered, "I don't think I trust you enough to give you a full answer. Not all of it. But I'll give you some information. Firstly, we now all know that creatures that aren't human exist, right?"

Pascal nodded. "Yeah," He said, offering a laugh-that part, the part about creatures turning to stone during the day and ripping out of that stone shell at night, still was a lot to take in. "I'm still absorbing that craziness."

Clarke nodded. "So therefore," She began, "If there's something that strange that exists, I need you to withhold your disbelief about the part that I'm about to tell you. Okay?"

Pascal nodded. "Okay." He said, ready for what Clarke was about to tell him.

Clarke said, eyeing him still with suspicion, "Time travel."

Pascal blinked at this reaction. What?

He waited for more and Clarke eventually answered, "Time travel," She repeated. "Of a kind. I don't know how exactly. Things that happened before, in another timeline. I was betrayed a lot in that other timeline. By Grounders. By the Commander of the Grounders who handed us off to an enemy and acted like it meant nothing. By our own people. By my own mother. So I got angry. Distrusting. Finally I got betrayed and that betrayal led to my death. Bellamy got me to trust him and he betrayed me. He allowed someone to shoot me. I got shot in the head and now I'm here. So I trust no one now."

Clarke smirked at the surprise and confusion in Pascal's eyes. "Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

Pascal's eyes widened, but he said nothing.

Clarke then scoffed, "That's what I thought."

Pascal then said, "Time travel? And…wait, you died?"

Clarke nodded. "Yes," She answered, "Murdered. A bullet through the back of the head."

Pascal swallowed, looking mildly sickened by what he had just heard. Clarke snickered and said, "I don't know how I remember everything from the last timeline. I thought it had to do with me having been killed. But it wasn't that. After all, I don't remember seeing you or Trina later on in the timeline. Which means that both you and Trina died very early when we first got to the ground. So yeah, you and Trina died in this other timeline. But you two remember nothing. So there goes that theory." She then nodded to Wells as Pascal paled, "Wells died too. But he doesn't remember anything."

Pascal turned to Wells, feeling something cold circling his heart. He just felt cold right now. This girl was telling him that he and Trina had died. And had been the first of the people to die."

Clarke said, her grin animal like, "Does it get your rocks off? Knowing that Wells, the son of Thelonius Jaha, was also killed, just like the rest of you?"

Pascal stepped back, stunned. He then looked to Wells. Then to Monroe. Then to Niylah. None of them looked like they were smirking or about to burst out laughing. Whatever this was, this was not a joke.

He then looked to Wells. "You died?" He asked weakly.

Wells nodded. "I don't remember," He said, "But I believe Clarke and Monroe when they said that I died. That I was killed. By one of the 100. A little girl. Charlotte. We saw her before we left. That little girl we saw before we took off."

Pascal then thought about that little girl that had tried to follow after them that Clarke had told to go find food away from the dropship. Pascal shivered. Oh, right. He had forgotten.

"That girl killed you?" He asked, stunned.

Wells nodded, "Yeah. Apparently she stabbed me in the neck."

Pascal swallowed. Shit.

Clarke snickered, "Don't worry, that girl's dead. She won't be hurting anyone anymore."

Pascal stared at her, startled. What?

Clarke stared at him coldly, a smirk crossing her face and she said, "This is the next part that I hope you don't get too upset about. As I said, I was in the other timeline, and Charlotte killed my friend. She died in the other timeline anyway, but I intended to stop her before she killed my best friend. So I told Charlotte to go past the dropship. There's a patch of berries there, that I know from the other timeline. These berries are poisonous. And if things went the way I'm hoping they did? Then Charlotte's dead. Killed from poisonous berries."

Pascal gaped at her, stunned. What she was suggesting, was that she was willing to kill to keep herself and her friends safe from treachery?

Seeing Pascal's stunned face, Clarke chuckled, "So there you have it. I left them, including the so-called leader of their worthless group, Bellamy and all the rest of them. And I do hope they die. I have no sympathy for them if they die. Especially not for him. There's your choice, Pascal. You can join us and help kill all threats. You can always choose to not join us and stay out of the way. Or you could go against us and die. Those are your three choices."

Pascal swallowed. Clarke didn't seem insane. None of these people seemed insane. All four Clarke, Wells, Monroe and Niylah seemed very, very stable. Even in all her anger and savagery, Clarke didn't seem unstable. And none of them seemed to be making this up. If they were, for what purpose were they doing it?

So then that left the third possibility. That they were telling the truth and that they were right. And since Pascal had learned already that a species that weren't human but talked like humans but had batwings existed-a species that apparently had been around arguably for far longer than humans, if what he had heard from some of the guards was correct, and turned to stone during the day, then shouldn't he do as Clarke asked and withhold his disbelief?

"Okay," He said, taking an uneasy breath, "Let's say I believe you. That there's another timeline where three of us died." He looked to Wells, then to Clarke, "And where Trina died," Pascal shuddered at the thought. "How do we avoid getting killed now?"

Clarke shrugged. "We're already one step ahead." She said, "We left the 100. They're dangerous. They're one of the reasons why I don't trust people. Their leader, Bellamy is the main reason, as I said."

Pascal's eyes widened. You know, that shouldn't have been as much of a surprise as it was. When Pascal thought about it, it made sense. He thought about the way Clarke had been treating them, especially how she had been treating Jasper and Finn. Like they were troublemakers that she needed to keep track of. He then thought about how Clarke seemed to have wanted to get as far away from Bellamy as possible and about how Clarke had treated Octavia.

He said, looking at Clarke uneasily, "Octavia's not going to join us later, is she?"

Clarke smirked, as if pleased that Pascal had put the pieces together. "No," Clarke answered, "She's not. I didn't kill her, if that's what you're thinking. I wanted to, don't get me wrong. But I didn't. I beat her up and left her behind. Couldn't care less what happens to her afterwards. Not my problem. But there you have it. The 100 are as much of an enemy as the Grounders and this other group of people called the 'Mountain Men.' More on them later."

Pascal nodded, almost laughing. It was insane. But he believed her. He did believe her. A thought then hit him and he asked, "Did Jasper and Finn betray you?"

Clarke's smirk widened, then she said, "The first of those yes, the second…," she hesitated, "Finn is complicated." She lost her cold smirk. She now looked uncertain. "In the other timeline, when we faced off with a group of Grounders, not these ones, another group, the ones that lived in the place where the dropship landed, we survived, but we were traumatized. Including Finn. Finn attacked a village, because he was desperate to find me, because I had been abducted by the Mountain Men. That other group I mentioned. Finn reacted out of trauma, not out of intent to betray. But this led to his life being demanded by the leader of all of the Grounders, the Commander. The Grounders would have tortured Finn to death," Clarke's face became pained, "So after I escaped from the Mountain Men and got back to our people, I did the only thing I could think of. I killed him quickly, to spare him being tortured to death."

Pascal's eyes widened. Shit. Shit and shit.

"You saved him." Monroe said, looking at Clarke with conviction, truly not allowing any other answer to be given.

Clarke turned to Monroe and nodded to her, smiling. Wells looked to Pascal, as if challenging him to blame Clarke for Finn's death.

Pascal kept his mouth shut. If Finn really had been at risk of being tortured to death, then yes, Clarke had saved him. By giving him a quick death.

"And Jasper?" Pascal asked, unable to help his curiosity.

"Jasper," Clarke snorted, her face becoming dark with anger again. "Oh, he's another story." Clarke's eyes narrowed, "That worthless piece of shit." Pascal tried not to shiver again. He knew that Clarke hated Jasper, he hadn't realized how much, though. Clarke continued, "As I said, we were attacked by the Grounders in the area where we landed. And we fought them and won, but there were more numbers of them. I got captured by that other group, the Mountain Men, and so did Jasper, Monty, Fox and Harper."

Clarke's eyes darkened as she told this story, mouth in a cold line, "The Mountain Men…they are even worse than the Grounders, if that's possible. They abduct anyone they can get their hands on. And they take the blood and bone marrow of the people they abduct to keep their own people healthy. We didn't know this when we were first captured by them. But I didn't trust the Mountain Men. I didn't trust them even a little. And I tried to find out what they were hiding. But because the Mountain Men gave Jasper and the others cake," Clarke spit the word out, eyes flashing with pain, "Because the Mountain Men gave them food and nice clothes and a softer bed, apparently, I was the bad guy, because I was trying to keep them safe, and according to them, because I was being cautious of these strangers, these Mountain Men," Clarke sneered, "People who they had just met and because they were given cake and nice clothes," Clarke practically spit her next words out again, "Because of that, I was the bad guy and I was an ungrateful ass."

Clarke shook her head, disgusted. "I wanted to save my people, I wanted to protect them and when I pleaded with them to listen to me? They treated me like I was the enemy. Like I didn't belong. So you know what? Fuck Jasper. Fuck him. I hope he dies. And I hope he dies slowly. He chose the Mountain Men over me, when I saved him from the Grounders, twice. For people who gave him cake and fancy clothes." Clarke then snickered, "Of course, it helped that there was a hot piece of ass that Jasper was attracted to in the Mountain Men's place. Nothing like betraying your people for a cute girl."

Pascal stared, feeling cold again. Shit. Shit. For a moment, Pascal wasn't sure what to feel. How was he supposed to react to that?

"Jasper," He said quietly, "Betrayed our people, for bribes?"

Clarke nodded. "Basically," She said, "I mean, to his credit, when he found out what was actually going on in the mountain, he tried to stop them. But because he was so willing to believe in the Mountain Men's lies at the beginning, believed them over me, the person who saved him twice up until then, he was complicit in the things that came afterwards. Then after I did what I had to do to stop the Mountain Men? After that hot little piece of ass that Jasper was into died because of what I did, even though it was necessary and the rest of the Mountain Men died too as a result, guess how Jasper reacted? That little shit blamed me every day. It didn't matter that I saved him and the others. It didn't matter that I tried to help afterwards in the politics of the Grounders to help our people. Jasper hated me, even though I saved him three times."

Clarke's face was now a mask of anger. "So I don't give a shit what happens to that little bastard. He can die. Oh, and to top it all off? He's the one that started the war between our people and the Grounders. He, Finn's girlfriend, Raven, who isn't here yet and that piece of rotting fecal matter, Bellamy were at a bridge where I met with one of the Grounders' leaders, to negotiate peace. And because they were there? The war started. Jasper opened fire on that meeting between me and a spokesperson for the Grounders and because he opened fire there, he was the one that started the war. And he never was held accountable. If anything, he saw himself as a hero because he opened fire on the Grounders and started the war."

Pascal huffed out a breath. So Jasper Jordan was a pushover. A tool. A puppet. A traitor. And he had caused so much trouble and never had been punished. Pascal hated Jasper immediately. And he hated Bellamy, Octavia and the rest of the 100 that they had left behind even more.

Pascal thought about what he had just heard. You know, crazy as it all was? Pascal believed her. He believed her about this time travel thing. About Clarke being betrayed in this other timeline that she had been in, as many times as she said. About Bellamy and Octavia. About the Mountain Men. About Jasper and Finn.

"You know," He said dryly, "I think I believe everything you're saying."

Clarke nodded. She then said, "So, what's the choice, Pascal?"

Pascal nodded. So there was the choice. He could help her, stay out of the way, or go against her and die.

He believed her absolutely when she said that she was willing to kill to protect her people. He totally believed her.

The two options, staying out of her way or going against her, were not options.

He was going to help her.

"Alright," He said at last, "I'll help you."

Clarke's eyebrows went up at that. "You're sure?" She asked, not sounding like she cared about his choice that much.

"Really," Pascal assured her, "I'm sure. I can help my people, and piss my old man off. Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it."

Clarke snorted, "And I should trust you, why? Do I have proof to trust you?"

"No, you don't," Pascal said quietly, "But that's what makes it trust. You don't know for sure if I'm trustworthy or not. But tell me to do something and I'll do it. You have me on your side. I swear."

Clarke seemed to think about this. Monroe turned to her and said, "Clarke, I hate saying this, but we need allies."

Clarke turned to Pascal, thinking. You know, as much as she hated to admit it, Monroe was right. They needed more allies. More people on their side. This was a leap of something. She wasn't sure "faith" was the right word. But it was a leap of something, alright.

"Fine," Clarke said darkly, "I'll trust you. For now." She narrowed her eyes and said, "Cross me, and you'll wish that you had been killed the way you had been killed in the other timeline. And Trina will be killed first."

Pascal held up his hands. "I get it." He nodded. "Understood."

Clarke then said, "What do I call you besides Pascal? What's your last name?"

"Williams." Pascal answered. "Pascal Williams."

"Right," Clarke said, "Now, I want to take precautions. Give me your weapons. All the more dangerous ones? Give them to us."

Pascal blinked, then without further hesitation, reached into his clothing and started peeling off his weapons, handing them off to Clarke, Wells, Monroe and Niylah.

When Pascal was bare of all his weapons, Clarke then handed him a leather sheathed hunter's knife. "You can carry this around for now," She said to him as he took the knife. "Until I feel comfortable enough for you to have other weapons? Then you're only getting this knife."

Pascal nodded. He took the sheathed knife and place it against his forehead and saluted her with it. "Aye, aye, general Griffin." He said, grinning.

Clarke chuckled without meaning to. Great. This was her newest recruit.

"Get into the ride, Sergeant Williams," She said, nodding to the tunnel of "Peter Pan's Flight." "Or else the others will wonder where we are."

"Right." Pascal said, turning around, pocketing the knife and heading into the ride.

Clarke turned to Wells, then to Monroe and Niylah. "Did we make the right choice?" She asked darkly.

Wells shrugged, "We need help." He said, "One more ally might help."

"We'll see." Niylah said. "Perhaps we should watch him."

"Right." Clarke grumbled. "Well, then," She said, "I guess we should start following after them."

The four of them went to the opening of the ride and went inside.

There were electrical lights that lined the inside of the tunnels. Clarke wasn't sure if those electrical wires and lights had been here since before the bombs and radiation, but they were certainly here now and were on. Which meant that they provided a great deal of light to spill through and allowed Clarke and the others to see where they were going, something Clarke was grateful for.

They reached the "exhibit" part of the ride. Now, Clarke had never been to Disneyworld, of course, but she knew how this ride worked technically. There were pirate ship shaped pods which people were supposed to get inside of and ride around in. While rides like this naturally didn't exist on the Ark, the Internet still existed. And so she had seen videos of these rides. Videos that had been uploaded almost centuries ago and stayed on the Internet.

Personally, Clarke didn't understand the Internet or how it worked. Either way, it gave her access to images and videos. While the ships that were the pods were supposed to be dragged around the ride, that obviously was not an option here.

The mechanics didn't seem to work in this ride and probably didn't work for any of the rides. They would need to walk along the floor of the ride and go through the ride. Much like an abandoned museum, and looking in on the exhibits of long dead animals or insects.

Clarke, Wells, Monroe and Niylah took the next turn and came upon the inside of the ride.

Clarke burst out laughing as soon as she saw what was before her. Well, this was interesting.

They were inside a pink and white striped bedroom. Well, sort of. This was obviously the fictional "Darlings'" children's bedroom. The portal that was supposed to serve as a window, which was a HUGE opening, by the way, led out into the next compartment of the ride.

The one rather creepy aspect of this room, was the animatronic-albeit, not moving painted plastic and metal figures of Wendy, John and Michael Darling on one of the beds. Wendy was obviously supposed to be telling her brothers a story. The other bed had a set of wooden swords on top of it. Clarke stepped over the metal railing where the ship pods would have rode along to go through the entire ride. By the portal that was the window, Jasper, Monty, Finn, Harper, Fox and Trina were standing there, ready to go through it. Pascal caught up with them and Clarke, Wells, Monroe and Niylah began to join them.

"Look!" Jasper said excitedly, pointing out of the window out into the next room which had been designed to look like the outside of the Darlings' family house. "Let's go!"

"Yeah, yeah," Monroe grumbled, using Peter Pan's famous line, "'Off to Neverland.'"

Clarke turned to Pascal and he offered a friendly smile as he nodded to her. "So," He said to her, "You leading the way, boss?"

Clarke turned to him coolly. "You go first." She said, not leaving room for argument. She watched as understanding crossed his face. She was trusting him with the knife and with secrets so far. But that was it. That was all she was going to trust him with as of right now. If he wanted more trust? He would have to earn more trust.

Pascal showed no offense or anger to that limit of trust. Instead, he nodded. "Alright." He said. "I'm the guinea pig." He went to the window and began to step one leg over the window and then the next, letting out several high-pitched squeaking noises, obviously trying to emulate a guinea pig's types of squeaks.

Clarke, despite her distrust, fought a chuckle at this. Trina seemed a little confused by her boyfriend's actions, but followed after him. Finn, Monty, Jasper, Harper and Fox followed next. Then Monroe, Clarke, Wells and Niylah went through the window.

The lighting was still bright, but the coloring of the designs were a more dark blue. The ground was dark, the tiles of the roofs of the buildings were dark. And the wall behind the mechanical, unmoving dog, Nana, was dark, as well.

Clarke glimpsed at the metal dog, with its light brown paint beginning to chip off. It barely came up to her shin, but it was enough of a convincing rendering of a dog. She had always wanted a dog. Always. Animals weren't extinct on the Ark. They were just rare. People weren't allowed access to them for fear of disease or something of the like. Some stations had dogs. But they were used as security, nothing else.

When they had reached the ground, she had been put through too much bullshit to believe that she could deal with taking care of a dog. She was in no condition now to take care of a dog. No matter how much she wanted one. She wondered what kind of breed Nana was supposed to be. Her breed was big and fluffy. But that description seemed accurate to quite a few dog breeds. So heck if she knew what breed the dog was supposed to be.

She turned away from the dog and saw Pascal taking a turn between the buildings and then he halted, looking surprised. "Holy shit." He said, grinning. "Hey, you guys should see this!" He said loudly.

Clarke, Wells, Monroe and Niylah followed after him. They moved quicker than Trina, Finn and the rest of the group, so they saw what Pascal had wanted them to see first. "Well," Clarke said, eyebrows hopping up, "Shit."

She had seen the Internet videos that people long dead had put out for people to see when they had gone on this particular ride. So she shouldn't have been surprised. Still, it was a sight to behold.

Before them was a length of miniature land. It was London. In miniature. The bridge, Big Ben, and other taller structures would go up to their thighs most likely. But that was about it.

However, what was impressive was the scale of the length of that miniature land. It went all the way from the buildings right outside of the window portal from the Darlings' home, all the way across the hall. And each building and part of the ground of the miniature London, was ornately designed.

"Huh," Monroe said, "Cool."

"That's one word for it," Wells said, "I have to say, I'm impressed the Grounders kept everything so dust-free. I would think that there would have been layers and layers of dust all over the place."

"There used to be," Niylah said, coming up next to Clarke, standing between her and Wells, "I heard from my people when the Luwoda first laid down their roots here. They cleaned everything and maintain it regularly."

"Interesting." Clarke said. She then added, "Although I can think of one part of this ride that should have been left to rot. Or just destroyed." She remembered how racist the Disney Peter Pan movie was.

It might have been well animated and had good music-it didn't change that it was racist as fuck.

"What part?" Monroe asked, looking at Clarke.

Clarke gave Monroe a wry look. "C'mon," She grumbled, "Like you don't know. You've seen the Disney Peter Pan movie, right?"

Monroe shook her head. "Not really," She answered, "I kinda didn't have a usual upbringing and didn't have a lot of opportunities to watch movies or TV shows."

Clarke paused, nodding. "Right," She said, remembering what Monroe had told her about the other girl's life on the Ark, "Sorry."

Monroe shook her head. "It's okay," Monroe answered, "It wasn't all bad. But no. I don't know what you're talking about. What is it?"

Clarke nodded. Okay, so Monroe most likely hadn't seen any Disney movies in her entire life. That was an interesting thing to know. "Disney's Peter Pan is incredibly racist," She explained. "Against Native Americans specifically. There's a whole segment in the movie that has a bunch of stereotypes about Native Americans. There's a really, really racist song in the movie that I'm not repeating the name of."

Monroe's eyes widened. "Damn." She said weakly. "That's depressing."

"Shouldn't be a surprise," Clarke said darkly, "It's based on a book written by an entitled British ass-wipe. Not excusable. But we shouldn't be surprised either. In any case, there's a design in this ride that will be of the Native American characters in the movie. So yeah, just warning everyone."

"Got it, understood." Monroe said, though she looked kind of sickened now.

"Oh, yeah," Monty said, looking uncomfortable, "I forgot about that." He grimaced, "Not cool."

"No, it's not." Wells said. "But hey, who cared if a movie based on the book written by a pedophile had racism in it. Shocking." His face was hard as he scoffed out this sarcastic remark.

"Wait, pedophile?" Jasper asked, looking at Wells, surprised, "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Oh yeah," Wells said, smirking grimly, "Sir James Matthew Barrie, famously known as 'J.M. Barrie,' the author of the Peter Pan books, had a thing for little boys. Specifically the little boys of a family he grew attached to. He latched onto one of the boys especially. Named Peter." Wells's smirk seemed almost pained, "How nice. You could be molested by a pedophile, but hey, as long as you get a sociopathic main character of a story that has colonial racism in it named after you, who cares?"

The looks of wonder on all the others faces suddenly turned to unease and disgust. Clarke shouldn't have felt so pleased by their looks of growing horror. But it felt so good to see them look like this. People who had expected her to do everything for them suddenly now looked so horrified. It felt fucking good.

Clarke shrugged, turning to Monroe who still looked nervous, Pascal who was watching with fascination and Niylah who was watching and listening but didn't seem to understand some of the words that she heard. Clarke grinned coldly. "Well," She said, "Let's go."

She started through the miniature city, Wells, Monroe, Niylah, Pascal and Trina following closely behind her. The others slowly but gradually followed too.

Back on the Ark, Callie took the footage she had taken of the medic center, of Abby Griffin doing her activities. She knew that she could find enough evidence to fabricate a crime that Abby had done, even though she hadn't done it, and have Abby floated. Callie wanted to do it. But she wasn't sure that killing Callie would get her on Clarke's "good list." She intended to adopt both Clarke and Wells. And Clarke was much more likely willing to be adopted by her, if Callie was careful enough not to have Abby killed.

Thelonius Jaha's murder could be hidden. After all, as long as she had made Kane the suspect of that, Wells would believe that his father had been killed by Kane. Not by her. But if she had Abby executed? That couldn't be hidden.

So she wouldn't have Abby killed. Not just yet.

Was Clarke pissed at Abby Griffin? Yes. That couldn't be argued. But Abby was still Clarke's mother and therefore, it was easy to assume that Clarke would still care about Abby, if only a little. Or only out of obligation.

So Callie would keep that footage handy. And she would have the Ark go down to South America, not to Florida, per that girl, "Monroe's" instructions. But she expected to hear from Clarke and Wells soon.

Then there was mechanic, Raven Reyes.

She grabbed a radio and called to Raven through this radio. "Reyes, can you please get more equipment?" She said, "Get as much as you can and meet me in the chancellor's chambers."

Hearing Raven's confirmations, Callie waited.

About two hours later, Raven came by her chambers and said that she couldn't get the equipment that she needed. She explained that she couldn't get the equipment, because Nigel, a tech aficionado, wasn't allowing Raven near it.

Callie eyed Raven. Raven seemed very, very angry. Her shoulders were hunched and her eyes were narrowed.

"Raven?" Callie asked gently, "What happened?"

Raven shook her head, obviously distrustful towards the new chancellor. "I'm fine." The mechanic said, "No need to worry. I'm good."

Callie frowned. "You are not good. You're angry. Can you tell me why?" She spoke softly, hoping to give this girl an idea that someone cared about her. While Callie unquestioningly would kill this girl to protect Clarke and Wells, if she had to, she doubted that she would need to. And if she didn't need to, she wanted this girl to feel safe and know that she had someone to talk to if she really needed someone.

Raven said, shrugging, still angry, "Nothing. Just that bitch, Nigel. She said she'd only give me the equipment, if I did what she asked. If I have sex with someone that has the equipment." Raven's words were covered in anger, and quiet rage.

Callie's eyes grew huge. What?

Oh, Callie knew that rape was a problem on the Ark. Prisoners exchanged sex with guards in order to gain possessions. And since the prisoners were all underage, or almost all underage, and they were in a position of severe vulnerability, the guards took advantage of not willing people, but helpless people. Therefore, committed rape. And there were more than a few adults that took advantage of underage people who were not guards and therefore, were committing rape.

And those who wanted sex in exchange for favors were one of those lowlife rapists. Raven Reyes was an adult. Nineteen years old. But trying to gain sex in exchange for a favor on its own was pushing it towards there being no consent.

"Did she tell you this person's name?" Callie asked.

Raven shook her head.

Callie sighed, believing Raven. Though she suspected that Raven didn't want to tell a chancellor anything, she doubted that Raven was lying to her.

"Alright," She said, "Well, then, come with me," She said to Raven, "We'll track down the person she wanted to force upon you ourselves."

Raven looked at Callie, startled and Callie smiled, seeing that Raven wasn't used to having someone on her side. Callie called for the guards and they and Raven followed her out of her chambers, down the hall, to Nigel's area.

The next half hour most likely was one of the strangest ones that Raven had ever experienced. At least, that was what Callie figured. Callie had her guards arrest Nigel, and her associates. Eventually, due to Callie tricking Nigel into thinking that the woman who was quintessentially a "pimp," that she wouldn't float the awful woman, Nigel gave the name of the person that she had hoped to give Raven to for an evening.

Some piece of garbage named Darius Lee. Callie realized she had heard of this man. He was one of the top specialists in the black market.

That made up Callie's mind for her. She had everyone involved with Nigel's illegal dealings arrested.

Then she had them all thrown into new skyboxes. She intended to eventually float all of them one by one, this evening.

Darius Lee was dragged to the chancellor's chambers another half hour later. He was held captive, each arm held painfully tightly by a guard and clubs being held over his neck, pushing him down so that his knees dragged along the floor.

Darius was carried to Callie's quarters and Raven stood next to Callie, nervous.

Callie smiled at Raven. "It'll be alright," She promised the young woman. "I won't let him near you."

Raven forced a tough look on her face. "I'm not worried. He touches me, I cut his hand off."

Callie chuckled. Either Raven was very tough or acted tough to survive. She was going to have to suspect that it was the second one, not the first. But that wasn't the point. She turned to look back at Darius Lee.

The light brown-haired man that had been dragged here, with shocked, and rather frightened light brown eyes peered at her from a pale white face.

"Chancellor?" He asked, "Sorry, but what am I here for?"

"I think you know, Mr. Lee." Callie answered. "You have been running illegal machine parts, amongst other items in the black market. You are to be floated, today, for your crimes."

Darius's eyes widened.

"Wait," He said, panicked, "Chancellor!"

"Take him away!" Callie ordered. "Get him prepared to be floated!"

Darius cried out as he was dragged out of the chambers and Callie turned to Raven.

Callie nodded to Raven. "Does this make you feel safer?" She asked.

Raven swallowed and looked away, nodding. Callie smirked, turning back to the door. She would enjoy floating every last one of Nigel's associates.

Callie wanted Raven to know that she was on the younger woman's side. But if Raven got in the way of Callie protecting either Clarke or Wells, Callie wasn't past killing Raven too, in order to protect her two chosen children.

Back on the ground, in the Trikru's land, the general Onya, and her allies, Sekena and the others, rode along.

All of them had agreed to be loyal to Onya, rather than the Commander. Onya had told them what their so-called great Commander would end up doing. Betraying them by not going against the Mountain Men as she swore to do. According to Onya, their newest Commander was the Mountain Men's puppet. The Mountain Men's lapdog. There was no need for them to show her any loyalty.

And they were on their way to the Luwoda's land. They knew it would take days. They had rested last night and had taken off this morning. Having hunted down some bucks and pheasants for their breakfast and eating, they had then done what they needed to-that was a polite term for them having to pee and shit.

And after they had used soaproot to clean their hands after relieving themselves, they fed the horses and given them water, had saddled up again and had headed off.

It had been almost three hours since they had shot off like arrows across the land from their previous campsite this morning. By now, they all knew that the Commander would have found out about their departure from their army and would have ordered them to be found.

Given that Onya had been the Commander's former Fos, it was very likely that the Commander didn't understand why Onya had left and likely would have more questions than being angry at her former teacher.

Mardo had suggested that they get rid of the horses-send the horses north, and make the Commander think that they went north, instead of south. But Onya dismissed it, knowing that the Commander wouldn't fall for something like that.

So they continued on.

They had gone through the barrier that was the Trikru's land and continued onto the Luwoda's land. They were halfway there. It would take another day and a half before they reached the Luwoda's kingdom, where in theory, Klark and the others had gone.

As they rode, Sekena asked Onya as they rode, "Klark…she must be amazing for us to be doing this."

Onya scoffed, smirking, calling over to Sekena as they rode, "Yes, she is, Sekena. She is amazing. She is a force of war, fire and deadly nature. And I love her. And so did you. In the other timeline."

Sekena nodded. This was still a lot to take in. But Onya wouldn't make something like this up.

And Onya wasn't insane. So there was only one conclusion, no matter how strange. Onya was telling the truth and there was another world where these events had already happened.

Eventually, they had told the others everything as well.

They all took it differently. Mardo had found it strange and bizarre. But he hadn't questioned it. Sathna hadn't questioned it, though she had questioned Onya's sanity a few times, till Onya had told her to shut her mouth. Lethena had laughed and said that she couldn't care less whether it was all real or if Onya had made it up. But she admitted that she had been looking for a reason to betray the-in her own words, "uptight" Commander, so she'd go with anything Onya said.

Auden and Rafa both agreed to this mission, believing what Onya said.

Forna was intrigued by Onya's betrayal to her Commander, to the warrior that Onya had once been so loyal to. Onya's betrayal had sparked Forna's fascination. She was an Azgeda, so already, her loyalty was in a questionable state. So she went along with Onya.

Kolak wanted to find this young woman, whom made even the Commander afraid. Onya swore that Leksa feared Klark, and so Kolak wanted to meet this warrior, so he had done as Onya had said.

Hadvenk and Jakora had the same attitude about the matter that Kolak did. They wanted to know who this woman was who could both make Onya become disloyal to the Commander, AND could make the Commander afraid.

Dontor took no side, except for this group of warriors who was his family, and therefore, he would follow them everywhere.

And Eltesa? She was of the same mind that Dontor was. Though have fun trying to get her to admit that.

The group of them stopped by a village to trade for supplies. More food, more fresh water, a few more knives and some more pieces of steel and more pieces of flint. They never risked telling anyone where they had come from or what their destination was. Oh, no, they were not going to risk that.

So they gave a fake story. That they were sent on a mission by one of the nearby tribe, the Poda's generals, general Vasnen to go off to the Trishana tribe with a message. Thankfully all their tribal tattoos were beneath their clothing, so there was no evidence to go against this claim. The traders nodded and accepted the claims of Onya and the others and wished them a good journey. Onya and the others left, getting up on their horses and took off.

The group got a few miles away, when they stopped at a road and decided the best route to take. Sekena turned and looked at Onya. She said to him, "Onya, if I loved this 'Klark' as much as you say, did…did Klark ever know?"

Onya shook her head as they began to move along the road to their next stretch of travel.

"I'm sorry, but no." Onya answered. "No, she didn't know. She doesn't know." Onya nodded. "If Klark has left now? Then that means she remembers everything. She wouldn't be making this big of decision of she didn't remember. The change in decision, and her leaving means that she does remember. Which means that no, she still doesn't know. Because she never learned that."

Sekena bit her lower lip as she gave a soft kick to her horse's sides. That sweet young girl that Onya had told her about, who Sekena had wished to take in, according to Onya, and a noble, traumatized girl, who needed love and kindness. And she didn't know. Had never learned that someone had loved her. Had loved her the way a mother would love their daughter. That any child should be loved by a parent. A young girl who was rejected by her own birth mother. And she hadn't known that she had been loved by Sekena.

Being able to read one of her best warrior's expressions well, Onya said to Sekena quickly, "We'll tell her when we reach her. You can tell Klark yourself when we reach her in the Luwoda's land."

Sekena nodded and kicked her horse again, making the horse go faster. Sekena would reach Klark. No matter what.

In what other parts of what used to be Florida, within Disneyworld, the three queens of the kingdom confronted each other.

One of the guards had brought news of their guests to them. Apparently that young woman, Clarke and her companions were in the "Peter Pan's Flight," ride. Fox and Elisa nodded to the guard and dismissed him. As the guard left, the two of them faced Demona again. Contemplating that particular ride, Demona scoffed, "I still don't know why you tolerate that ride being there," She said specifically to her wife, Elisa, "The offensive thing it has in its disgusting bowels-"

Elisa sighed, smiling, "And what should I do, then, huh? Erase a piece of history? I'm not going to erase the disgusting things that the people that owned this company did. Let people see it." Elisa nodded. "Let people see the racism of the people long dead. Let them see it and see how disgusting and stupid they were. Maybe it deserves to be destroyed. But people should see the racism of the people who used to own the company of this place. Let people see ignorance."

Demon sighed, shaking her head, dark red hair flying a bit. She understood what Elisa meant. But still, it was infuriating. To destroy the ride or just the mechanic figures of the Native American figures in that ride wouldn't erase what had been done. It would just be erasing the evidence. And it would be ignoring history. According to Elisa, those figures in the Peter Pan ride deserved to rot away in that ride, but shouldn't be destroyed. Should be seen as works of ignoramuses and bigots and left at that. But not erased. It should be held up as the works of bigots and nothing else.

Elisa's father, Peter Maza, had been Native American. Navajo, specifically.

Demona had always seen humans as bigoted-awful, bigoted wretches. But knowing that a certain company, the company-whose theme park they now governed, had created a movie-and more than one, when taking into account the movie, Pocahontas-making mockery of Native Americans-it was enough to infuriate her, especially after her relationship with Elisa began almost two centuries ago.

"In any case," Elisa said, "That's not what we're talking about, is it? Demona, what's going on? You were looking at that girl, Clarke before. Why? You looked at her funny. Like you were fascinated. What's up, Demona? Talk to us." She looked at Demona, smiling, waiting for some kind of explanation or some troubling possibility that the gargoyle had found something disturbing.

Demona looked at Elisa and Fox, resigned. She knew she needed to tell them. It was difficult to explain how she had felt as soon as she had seen Clarke, looked into the young woman-again, girl really's eyes. She might have been a full-grown woman-though Demona wouldn't presume to know what Clarke's age was, but Clarke, nonetheless, couldn't be any more than a little girl. Was at the oldest sixteen or seventeen. Maybe eighteen.

But even if she was a full-grown adult, she was clearly so young. So damaged and vulnerable.

Demona didn't know what she should say. To ask both her wives and mates to take in an adopted child-albeit, a bigger and older adopted child, that wasn't just something that you put on another person or two people. But still, Fox and Elisa both had been there for her when she had been trying to reconnect with her daughter, Angela. Even after all the betrayals that Demona had committed, and even after all of the times she had manipulated her daughter, Elisa and Fox still believed that Demona deserved another chance, a chance to reconnect with her only child. And so they had helped her. Eventually Demona had actually had a relationship with her daughter, Angela. Had visited Angela at Angela's clan's home in the castle back in what used to be called "Manhattan." Almost a century and a half. That was the time that Demona owed to Fox and Elisa.

Gargoyles aged slower than humans did. Though Demona had tried to find a way of making her daughter immortal, Angela had refused. She wished Demona and Fox and Elisa happiness. But Angela and her mate, Vincent wished to face their aging and eventual death. And that was their choice. Demona almost had disregarded her daughter's wishes and had tried to find some magic to make Angela immortal, against her daughter's will, but hadn't. For her daughter's sake, Demona realized that she needed to respect the younger gargoyle's wishes.

Angela and Vincent both had been dead now for what felt like a long time. But Demona was grateful for the time she had had with her daughter. Time that Fox and Elisa had given to her by helping her. Alexander, Fox's own son, had been dead for a while now too. But Demona had come to care about him as well. So Fox hadn't just given her time with her daughter, she had given Demona another child.

Now Angela's children, Artus, Gwenyvere and Lancelot ruled in different clans. Their own children traveled here and helped their great-grandmother and their great-grandmother's wives. Demona could see in some of her grandchildren, Angela's light lavender skin, which they had inherited from their great-grandfather, Goliath. She could see the curved horns that had belonged to their grandfather, Vincent, a gargoyle from one of the Italian gargoyle clans. Some, Demona would see the dark silver skin of their grandfather, Vincent's. And some of them had Vincent's webbed wings-some of them had Angela's wings with the little hands at the top of those wings. Angela's black hair. Vincent's light chestnut brown hair. Worse, sometimes Demona would see features of Angela's face in Angela's grandchildren.

It was difficult to see those similarities, sometimes. To be so, so reminded of her dear, dear daughter. But she lived with it.

And here she was, she had the chance of having a maternal relationship with someone who she wanted to take in, to make her own, her child-hers. A child who had been thrown away by those ungrateful for her help-and she had the chance to take this girl, this traumatized little girl in and to make her Demona's own.

"Fox, Elisa," Demona began, "I need to talk to you about something. I need to ask you something. About that girl, Clarke."

Within the halls of the ride that had at one time been called "Peter Pan's Flight," the group wandered around, checking the miniature figures out. The big, wide halls full of miniature, plastic rocks and a floor decorated to look like an ocean or a big river. And yes, they saw the gruesome figures in the halls, that was the garish Native American figures from the Peter Pan film.

All of the group, save for Clarke, Wells, Monroe and Niylah had loudly acknowledged that it was fucked up. Clarke and the other three didn't need to say it. They knew it was fucked up. What was the point of saying what was obvious?

After they had passed by the disgusting figurines, they reached the figurine of the pirate ship and the Captain Hook figurine over a figurine of that snapping crocodile, desperate to eat the captain.

As soon as they got there, Pascal did something that startled Clarke.

He slipped past the others, but stuck his right foot out, just enough for Jasper's foot to be caught by her ankle, tripping over Pascal's feet, and Jasper went flying over Pascal's foot, lying flat on his chest and stomach, right on the floor designed to look like water and he groaned in pain as his goggles smashed against his forehead. Jasper cried out in pain as his nose bled and already it was obvious that he was going to bruise up as the goggles slammed against his forehead, pushed in by the floor he had crashed into.

Clarke saw Pascal's smirk and then the smirk disappeared and he turned to Monty and Finn who were running to help Jasper up and Pascal's face appeared frightened and disturbed. "I'm sorry!" Pascal said and Clarke could hear the dishonesty in the apology, "I'm really sorry, Jasper! It was an accident!"

As the others moved to help Jasper, Pascal tossed a smirk at Clarke, before forcing his features to look like he was worried again as he thought to himself, (How's that for my first act of loyalty, general Griffin?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So just basically acknowledging where pieces of racist trash like the Disney Peter Pan and the Pocahontas movies belongs. In the trash cans of history.
> 
> Also, for those who want to look it up, even though Gargoyles was cancelled, the writer for Gargoyles listed the name of Angela's children in the Gargoyles website, so the names, "Artus, Gwenyvere and Lancelot" ARE there if you want to check it out, along with a lot of not shot and directed stuff that never got to see the light of day, unfortunately.


End file.
